In the Garden of Eden
by Lady Elena Dawson
Summary: After Aria's unexpected death, Spencer and Ezra try to make peace with what they never got to say. Sparia/Ezria one-shot. Sequel to one-shot: It's been six months since Aria's death, and it's on this anniversary that Spencer and Ezra are visited by an unlikely individual.
1. One-shot

**A/N: Firstly, Happy Valentine's Day to all the couples and single people like me out there! I should be working on my multi-chapter stories, but I got so absorbed by this depressing idea that I just had to turn it into a one-shot. It takes place after the finale and you should bring your tissues. I also want to mention that this is dedicated to my friend Spomione (go look her up NOW, she's awesome and totally bawled at this story) for giving me feedback on this and encouraging me to keep going even when it was one in the morning and I was only at 5,000 words and still not close to finishing it.**

**Secondly, I will be writing some short Valentine's fluff, which I'll try to get started today but if not then tomorrow or Sunday.**

**Thirdly, how amazing was that black and white episode?! The promo for next week's ep totally traumatized me, though. Lucy Hale crying like that is, like, a stab in my heart. She's going to rock the rest of this season.**

* * *

><p><strong>In the Garden of Eden<strong>

_Please, open your eyes._

A pair of vibrant hazel eyes jerked open, surprised. White, blinding light made the pupils shrink in protest, and the young woman reached her pale arm above her head to block the blue sky and yellow sun shining above her. Groaning, she kept her eyes shut for a few seconds, waiting for her head to stop pounding.

That's when she realized she was lying on her back in a meadow of long grass. Peeking around, she wondered how she got there. Was it just a dream? She wasn't sure. The pain had subsided, and now all there was was levity. Her hand dropped down from her cool forehead and curled around a silver locket; she let out a pent-up breath as her fingers rubbed against the familiar engravings. Maybe this was real after all.

Slowly and reluctantly she pushed herself up into a sitting position, her fingers digging into the soft, moist soil. Another whisper, this time inaudible, emanated from the trees surrounding the grassy meadow, and she looked in the direction it came from. Nothing moved. She was all alone.

For a strange reason she couldn't explain, she wanted to cry, but the serene setting lulled her into a state of carelessness. Shakily, she stood up and wiped her dirtied hands on the white skirt of a dress she couldn't remember wearing. Then again, she replaced her closet frequently. The only real mystery was where she was.

Her feet were bare as she padded through the tall grass and into a thin forest of trees. She could detect the smell of wet wood and salt water, and she knew where she was headed the moment she heard the waves.

It was a beach—except there were no beaches in Rosewood. Where had it come from? She glanced down at her naked toes entwined in the grass and took a single step into the sand. It was like she was crossing a border, and once she completely transferred to the sand she would be past the point of no return. Turning around, she hesitated and moved her foot back onto the green terrain. She wasn't sure what she was looking for—a sign, maybe?—but she watched the forest and listened to the silence for a moment longer before taking that leap onto the shore.

As soon as both of her feet touched the sand, she realized it was the perfect temperature despite the sunny day. She left behind footprints as she kept walking, never again looking behind her at the woods that so resembled those in Rosewood. Her eyes were trained on the sparkling water, her ears on the soothing lapping of the waves, and eventually she stopped right near the edge and calmly sat down. Curling her legs into her chest, she propped her chin on her knees and watched the glittering of the sun's reflection on the water.

She could feel like she was waiting for something. Though for what, she wasn't sure. And after staying in that position for several hours, she couldn't find the will to stay.

But yet, by a strong force she couldn't define, she did.

…

Spencer Hastings was finding no joy in staring at her bedroom ceiling, but she couldn't find the courage to get up. She'd been lounging in her house all day for the past week, not even going to school. And it's not like her friends were going either, except unlike Spencer they were getting through it together. It was something Spencer couldn't comprehend at a moment like this, and all she wanted to do was be alone.

Sniffling, she noticed her eyes were watering again, blurring her vision. Angrily she rubbed them away, annoyed at her conflicting emotions. Sometimes she barely found the strength to live, and other times she wasn't sure any of it was real and that she would just wake up from a really bad dream. She woke up this morning feeling the latter.

With a sigh she rolled over onto her side and caught sight of the picture frame on her nightstand. Her lips fell and began to wobble, but before she could fall into another pit of despair she reached out and smacked the frame onto its face so that the picture was no longer staring at her, reminding her. She should have put that frame in the casket along with the other things she'd left behind. Her stomach growled but she didn't care; she burrowed deep into her pillow and closed her eyes, praying for sleep to overtake her.

However, her wishes were short-lived by a knocking at her door. "Spencer?" rang out the familiar voice of Toby. "Can I come in?"

There was no answer, yet Toby went in anyway. He held a mug of hot tea in one hand and a bag in the other. "It's me," he said while setting the cup next to the face-down picture. When Spencer didn't move, Toby put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Please drink something."

Blinking her eyes open, Spencer caved in and weakly scooted into a sitting position before taking a sip of the tea. It burned her tongue, but she didn't really care. "What's in the bag?" she asked, straight to the point. She knew she should have thanked Toby, but a lot of things had been slipping her mind lately.

Gulping, Toby unzipped it and reached his hand in. "I went to the Montgomery house today," he explained as dispassionately as he could, "and I asked for a few things. Her parents said I could take them." With that, he pulled out a book, a dart, and some other things that caused Spencer's brain to pound in confusion. She didn't recognize any of this.

Toby, noticing her obvious dilemma, cleared her throat awkwardly. "They told me Ezra hadn't been by yet, and I thought…" He trailed off and crumbled.

Spencer's nose twitched and she quickly rubbed it, begging the tears not to come. Her finger ran over the cover of the book, and she opened it to the first page. _When you need to leave Rosewood_…

After reading that, Spencer's heart shattered. She didn't want Toby to notice, though, so she shrugged it off and said, "Yeah, he hasn't really left his apartment since that night."

"You're a saint, Spence," Toby told her, reaching for her hand. "I can't imagine what he'd be going through if he was alone."

Spencer enjoyed the warmth radiating off of Toby's loving hand, but she snapped back after reminding herself that her friend would never feel a warm touch like that ever again. Gritting her teeth, she turned her attention back to the items sprawled out on her bed and ran her fingers over the maroon silk tie. "I'm not a saint," she mumbled.

"Yes, you are," Toby tried to convince her.

"How?" Spencer snapped, her eyes slightly crazed as they bore into Toby's sympathetic ones. She gestured to the book. "I could have prevented this. It was _my _fault that we were on that roof, and I'm dealing with the consequences. Hanna and Emily can mourn together because they were right not to believe me in the first place because all the evidence I had was an order of pie and beer!" Pausing, she aggressively wiped away her streaming tears and crumbled. "N-now," she stammered, barely able to keep speaking due to the level of hysteria she'd let herself get to. "_Now_ I have to go deliver these parting gifts to my best friend's boyfriend and see the pain on his face, the pain _I _caused. Because she's gone, Toby." Sobbing, she leaned her forehead on his shoulder. "And she's never coming back." A couple of choked sobs escaped her throat in a guttural sound. "Because of me, because I—"

"Spencer, stop," Toby forcefully, yet tenderly, commanded her. "I know she was your friend. She was mine too. But you have to think about the others too, okay? They feel just as guilty. Hanna, Emily, Ezra—they were all there. You had _no _idea what was going to happen. And when it did, you weren't close enough." Tucking a piece of knotted hair behind Spencer's ear, Toby continued, trying not to choke on his voice. "Aria was a friend to us. But she was also a daughter and a sister. I get it. She had a family, and you were part of it even if not by blood."

When Spencer finally calmed down enough, she still had to keep her burning eyes closed. "She was special," she croaked in barely a whisper.

"I know," Toby comforted her, rubbing her back and holding her closer. "I know." Silently he prayed that Spencer wouldn't see the tear slipping down his own cheek.

After a moment of needed silence, Spencer pulled away and began to collect the belongings on her bed. "I should go see him," she said, finding it hard to look Toby straight in the eye. "Before I lose the courage."

"Are you sure?" Toby asked uncertainly. "Because I can go—"

"No, I'll go," Spencer stated surely. "Thanks for the tea."

As soon as Toby left (but not before giving her a departing hug), Spencer placed the bag next to her bed and nuzzled into the covers again. Once she got some sleep, she told herself, she would go.

…

Still waiting on the sand, Aria watched the sun as it eternally suspended itself above the waves. Time had passed, yet it hadn't, and time or no time she was still no closer to finding out why she was there all in her lonesome.

When Spencer opened her eyes, she found herself standing upright on a beach, but she wasn't alarmed. Instead she let her sensitive pupils adjust to the sudden light and saw a figure crouched on the sand. A weird feeling crept into her stomach, and she lost control of her body. She started walking without even thinking, and her breath hitched in her throat and her mouth went dry when she saw who it was.

The person didn't look up when Spencer approached her, so Spencer took the time to really look her over. She looked so real, Spencer felt like she could reach out and feel the warmth radiate off her skin like she was still alive. But when Spencer did reach out, she stopped and recoiled. Yes, it was Aria, but something about her was…off.

"Aria?" Spencer finally whispered.

The girl who was Aria looked up at her and smiled. "You came," she said in exactly Aria's voice. With a laugh she stood up and studied Spencer head to toe in disbelief. "I can't believe it!"

Licking her lips, Spencer tilted her head. "Am I…dead?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Aria's smile faded and so did the excited gleam in her eyes. Shaking her head, she softly answered, "No, Spence."

Spencer pointed at Aria, attempting to process what was going on. "But you are?"

This time Aria's shoulders sagged and she shifted her gaze to the everlasting waves, the truth finally slapping her in the face after a long time in denial. "Yes," she replied, her voice almost ghostly sounding. "I think I am."

Spencer took a step closer. She thought that if she ever had the chance to see her friend again, she would take her in her arms and never let her go, yet that desire never surfaced. "Do you remember what happened?"

Aria looked down at the grainy ground and weakly nodded her head. "Yes," she responded before looking back at Spencer. "I do." Slowly Aria's hand went up to cover her heart and she could remember the sticky wetness of the blood between her fingers oozing from the exact same spot.

"_Aria, look out!" Emily yelled as soon as she saw the sniper—A—aiming at her. Alarmed, Ezra turned around and bolted away from Spencer and Hanna, who were too shocked to do anything but stand there._

_The shot was deafening, and Ezra had only made it in time for the bullet to only graze his finger. Aria, turning pale, stared at Ezra with wide, shocked eyes as her hands went to her chest. As she fell, Ezra, acting all on impulse, caught her in his arms. Aria could hear her friends crying her name in the background, but she could only hear Ezra's desperate pleas as his hand pressed again Aria's, analyzing the damage that had been done._

"_Aria," Ezra warned her, but she found herself unable to speak. "Don't close your eyes, you hear me?"_

"_Aria," Spencer panted as her face loomed into Aria's view along with Hanna and Emily. _

_Shakily Aria removed her hand from her chest and displayed her bloodied palm. "Oh God," she heard Hanna scream, and then Ezra demanded Spencer to call 911. While she did that, Aria closed her eyes for just a second, death not really crossing her mind._

"_Aria." It was Ezra's voice again. She fluttered her eyes open and noticed he was crying. "You scared me," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Please don't do that again. Please."_

_Parting her dry lips, Aria tried to speak, but instead she closed her fingers over Ezra's jacket just to make sure he was real. She could feel his heart pounding through the think fabric, a sound that had comforted her so many times before. Tears swam in her eyes and she eventually whispered, "I never wanted it to be this way."_

Seeing the distress in Spencer's eyes, Aria reached out and clasped Spencer's hand in her own. Spencer was surprised that her friend wasn't cold to the touch. Her eyes watered over and more tears than she'd ever shed since the moment she'd been told Aria was gone poured down her face. "Does it hurt?" Spencer asked out of guilt.

"You mean here?" Aria pointed to where the bullet wound once was. Spencer nodded. "No," Aria answered, biting her lip to prevent her own tears from overwhelming her. "I don't feel pain anymore, Spence."

Spencer let out a pained cry that was a mix between a sob and a relieved laugh, and she had to pry her eyes away from Aria to regain herself. "That's good," Spencer croaked, making a pattern in the sand with her toe. "I don't want you to hurt anymore."

One corner of Aria's mouth turned up and she took Spencer's other hand too. "I don't," she whispered.

Lips wobbling, Spencer still couldn't believe it was her friend standing in front of her. "I never got to say goodbye."

Aria nodded her head. "I know," she admitted. "I remember you called for help…"

"…But by then it was too late," Spencer finished for her. "You were already gone. And Ezra took it the hardest because he was trying to keep you safe, but instead you died in his arms."

"Ezra," Aria whispered just to say his name. "I tried to tell him I was sorry, but I only got to tell him how I never wanted this to be the end." Aria's eyes bore into Spencer's as she poured out what she couldn't say in the last few minutes of her life. "You know, we talked about running off together. Ezra liked to call it our own Garden of Eden, wherever that may be."

Spencer frowned and tightened her grip on her friend's hands. "I'm sorry, Aria," she said. "But I always did dream of us growing old together."

"Yeah," Aria replied with a scoff, reminiscing back to her short life and when she and Spencer climbed trees together as children. "Me too."

A wave crashed over the sand, catching Spencer and Aria's attention. Sadly Aria pulled away from Spencer and stepped back. "It's time for you to go."

"No," Spencer exclaimed, grabbing for Aria's wrist. "I don't want to leave yet!"

"I'm sorry, Spence," Aria said, turning away. "But you have to. My time here isn't limited like yours."

"Can I at least say something?" Spencer blurted out. "In case this is the last time I see you?"

Aria stopped walking and listened intently to whatever Spencer had to say. "You were my _best_ friend," Spencer began. "You were the sister I'd always wanted to have." Her voice caught in her throat as she realized the intensity of her grief was making it hard to express her words clearly. "And it was so hard to see A take you from me. Your life was too short, and I wish I told you goodbye." Spencer had to pause to compose herself then finished. "And I really, really miss you, Aria. You've been gone for only a week and I wake up every day not knowing how I'll make it through. You were my second half. Now I just feel empty."

Turning around, Aria stared at a broken Spencer and knew what she had to do. She approached her and took her hand again. "I was never really gone."

With that, Spencer threw her arms around Aria and sobbed into her shoulder, unable to hold back her pain any longer. "Thank you," Spencer cried in between sobs. "For being my second half."

Aria hugged her back, missing her companion already. "Goodbye, Spencer."

However, their time was severed short. There was a white flash and Spencer was gone. Aria was all alone again.

…

It was already noon and an unshaven Ezra Fitz, dark circles discoloring the skin under his eyes, had still yet to change out of the same clothes he'd been wearing for the past few days. But instead of getting up and out of his dreary apartment, he stayed indoors torturing himself with perfect memories that were now tainted by unexpected death.

"Ezra!" shrieked Aria as she ran away from the camera, clutching a shirt over her body. "I'm trying to get dressed!"

"Whoops," came Ezra's voice from the other side of the camera. "I didn't notice."

Aria's hand came flying out of nowhere and slammed the camera out of Ezra's hand. It fell to the floor on its side and recorded a pair of feet with pink-painted nails scurry across the carpet. "You're going to pay for that!" Ezra warned her in a mocking tone as his feet also flew across the screen.

"No!" Aria squealed from out of view. "Ezra, put me down! Stop!" But she couldn't stop laughing, so Ezra didn't take her seriously and continued to tease her off screen.

Ezra remembered that moment clearly. It was cliché and giggly, but to Ezra it was precious. Normally Aria wouldn't let him record anything; now he was glad he'd convinced her otherwise.

The screen changed to a different setting: a book store. "What are you buying?" Ezra asked behind the camera, focusing in on Aria intently reading the back of a book. She shoved the cover, which had a drawing of a boy with black hair, glasses, and a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his head, in the camera's face and exclaimed, "_Harry Potter_, you geek!"

She uncovered the screen and Ezra focused the camera on her flipping the pages intensely. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. _I'm_ the geek?" Ezra said, appalled. "_You're _the one buying _Harry Potter._"

Aria placed the book under her arm so she could grab another one, raising one eyebrow at the camera. "There is nothing _geeky _about reading Harry Potter." Again her hand came in contact with the camera lens and knocked Ezra backwards a little bit. He was able to steady it and catch her strutting down the aisle, seven books in hand. "Nerd," Ezra called out, teasing her.

"Loser," Aria said back, turning around to wink at him before disappearing around a corner.

Ezra's morose thoughts full of regret and loneliness that were being summoned by the videos were disrupted by a knock at his door. "It's unlocked," he called out, hitting the pause button on the remote.

When Spencer entered Ezra's gloomy apartment, the first thing she saw was Aria's paused image in mid-laughter on the screen. Sighing, she set down the bag on the counter and shook her head in disappointment. "Ezra," she berated him while grabbing the remote. "I told you not to watch these."

On the other hand, Ezra didn't really care. He just took the remote back and set it next to him before continuing to stare at the paused screen. "I brought you something," Spencer said, giving up on him. "Actually, a few things…" She pulled out the book and handed it to him.

At first Ezra just held it in his hands, not fully understanding the value of the book. Then he flipped it open to the first page and saw the note he'd left two years ago. His finger traced the corners, the same corners she'd touched many times by the looks of the worn-out, bent edges. Spencer dumped the rest of the stuff off onto his coffee table, ready to rip the bandage off instead of peel it slowly.

Ezra stared at the objects, his nose catching a flowery scent he was all too familiar with: Aria's perfume. Something he wasn't sure he'd smell again.

Spencer was worried by Ezra's lack of reaction. He took a few glances over the stuff, opening the poetry book to a poem titled "B-26," studying intently a coaster that read "Snookers Bar and Grille." But after looking through all of that he sat back down in his seat, reached for the remote, and simply said, "Thank you."

He hit Play on the remote control and Aria's laughed penetrated the heavy air. "Why do you have to bring that thing everywhere?" she whined jokingly, digging her spoon into a cup of frozen yogurt. She was outside, and by the sun in the sky and the tank top she was wearing it had to be summer. Spencer recognized where she was. It was a local frozen yogurt shop, a place Aria had frequented because of her sweet tooth.

In silence and respect Spencer sat down on the arm of the couch and watched the video with Ezra. The Ezra on the screen replied, "Because I want to record every moment you're happy."

Aria rolled her eyes and the wind picked up her hair, blowing it behind her shoulders. She shoved her spoon into her cup and swirled the contents around. "You're _such_ a hopeless romantic," she scoffed, shaking her head as though she pitied him. But then a smile came over her face and she put the spoon in her mouth. "But that's why I love you."

Spencer bit her lip and glanced down worriedly at Ezra. How could he watch these and be so put together? Ezra, sensing he should listen to Spencer, hit the pause button, which again captured a still image of Aria.

"Ezra," Spencer spoke up in a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Ezra replied, also quiet. He was tempted to grab another beer from his fridge but knew better. "Me too."

"Toby picked these up, and I just wanted you to have them," Spencer explained right to the point. "They don't mean much to me anyway." She reached out and picked up a journal. "Except maybe this. But Aria would come back and strangle me if I read her diary. Besides, all she probably talks about is you anyway." Sighing, Spencer flipped to a page and read a sentence. _He told me if we were to run away together, we would have to live in a lush place where expectation didn't exist and where people didn't judge us for our differences; a place like our own Garden of Eden, a place where we wouldn't care together_. Of course, Spencer was reminded to what Aria had told her in her dream. She would have told Ezra about that, but it was something she wanted to keep to herself, something no one could ruin because it would be completely hers.

Propped open to that exact page, Spencer handed the book to Ezra and said, "You meant a lot to her. In some ways you were her entire world."

Ezra's heart sunk as he remembered the past few weeks and how he'd hurt her, which had in return shattered him. _I don't even know who you are, _she had told him brokenly. Skimming the page, a memory tickled in the back of Ezra's mind; he did remember saying this. It was a young lovers' paradise, this Eden, and a romantic's perfect vision, so obviously he and Aria talked about their impeccable place a lot before everything had fallen apart.

"I have to go," Spencer finally said, swinging the empty bag over her shoulder. However, Ezra didn't respond, and Spencer didn't want to wait for a response that might never come. "See you later."

After Spencer left, Ezra flipped through the pages carefully as though the book was an ancient artifact. He read articles about Mike, her parents, and her friends. He found ones that dated back to September 1, 2010 where Aria gushed about the new guy she had met. Going forward, she expressed her desire to keep seeing him, something she called "an invisible line" that constantly tugged her in his direction. She documented the first time she told him she loved him, and the heartbreak from various short-lasting breakups. Sometimes he imagined the memories with color, and others in black and white. It was a beautiful, complicated love story, severed by an abrupt end to be forever unfinished.

Shakily Ezra picked up the remote and returned his attention to the videos. The image shifted again and Aria, along with Ezra and the camera, were completely under the covers. She lied on her stomach with her head lounging on the crook of her elbow. Ezra remembered filming this, a serious moment under the sheets, and had pulled out the camera after he had asked her a question he'd been longing to know the answer to.

She didn't protest like she usually did. Instead she sighed before looking straight into the camera lens. "I want to travel," she began her ramble. "I especially want to see Europe again, but I really want to see the world. I want to go to college, graduate, and travel. And after that, I want to settle down, maybe marry and have a couple kids. But first I want to see the world and write it all down, turn it into a story. Psychologically examine it. Or maybe narrate it through the eyes of an anthropologist, uncover its mysteries." Shrugging, she shifted a bit and fell into deep thought.

The blood pounded in his ears and Ezra stopped the video. He knew exactly what was going to happen next. He was going to ask her if she saw herself with anybody, and she was going to tell him she saw herself with him.

Hitting play, the movie continued. "Do you see yourself with anybody in these dreams?" he asked her, exactly as Ezra thought.

Aria blinked and stared back into the camera, except she wasn't looking at the camera: She was looking at Ezra. "Yeah," she whispered, barely audible. "I see you."

Though the seriousness of the video was too much to handle in such a sensitive period of time, Ezra couldn't find the strength to turn it off. "You don't have to lie," the Ezra in the video said in a hushed voice.

"Who says I'm lying?" Aria replied. Ezra felt like he was being tortured by the many raw emotions reflecting off of her eyes, and he clenched his jaw from the tension. He had to stop watching, yet he couldn't. "I don't see myself with anybody else. You're it for me. Call it God or intuition, but…" She stopped, looking away from the camera. "I've always known you were it for me."

Ezra's hand slammed down on the remote, and the video paused before the TV screen flashed black. Hearing Aria speak so certainly of a future she'd never have stabbed Ezra in the heart like the sharpest knife. It hurt more than the bullet graze on his finger, the bullet he would have gladly taken if he had only been faster or closer. She would have lived, and to Ezra that was all that mattered more than his own pathetic life.

Lying down on the couch, Ezra stared at the ceiling and wondered why he was still breathing. He had always been a believer in soulmates, but he was also a follower that it was unrealistic. And as much as people looked down on their relationship, Aria meant everything to him. She was the new family he'd been so reluctant to let in, afraid that it would only end like his relationship with his parents and brother. Now he only wished he could tell her that.

After all, she had always challenged him to tell her something she didn't know.

…

"Ezra."

When Ezra woke up from his unplanned nap, he was surprised to find that he was not in his apartment, but instead being blinded by the shining sun. Groaning, he blinked his eyes and saw a blurry form standing above him. Once his eyes adjusted, he had to fight the urge to rub them in disbelief. There, sitting next to him, the sun causing her silhouette to glow like an angel's, was Aria.

"Ezra," she reiterated, a smile overcoming her face as he awakened. A tear slid down her cheek and Ezra reached out and wiped it away with his thumb, surprised that he was able to touch her.

"Aria," he whispered, sitting up quickly. The breath was nearly knocked out of his lungs just by their close proximity. This had to be a dream, he thought. There was no way this was happening. She was _gone._

"You came too," Aria said, instinctually putting her hand on the back of Ezra's neck. "Though I'm not that surprised."

Ezra grazed Aria's stretched arm with his hand, still in shock. "I have so much to say," he confessed, "but I don't even know where to start."

"Then let me," Aria suggested, ready to finish her amends. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of Ezra's neck, an action that comforted her greatly. "I tried to tell you this the night I passed, but it was practically impossible to speak. I wanted to tell you that I was sorry for reacting like I did. Honestly, even if I was alive right now I probably wouldn't forgive you for a while. What you did broke me, Ezra. You lied to me for a really long time, but that doesn't matter to me now. I've been spending hours on this beach with nothing to do but think. And when thinking became too painful, I remembered what it was like to be alive and in love. Then I was reminded that none of it would have happened if I hadn't walked through that door at that time." Now Aria clasped her hands together at the back of his neck. "And despite what I told you in the past few days, I don't regret any of it."

Ezra mindlessly wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger, something he used to do a lot because Aria didn't mind it. "Me neither," he said after a few beats of silence. "I wouldn't take any of it back."

"Even the sad moments in black and white?"

"Yes," Ezra admitted. "Not even those."

Despite her heart feeling lighter, another stray tear fell down Aria's cheek and the joyous grin that had been on her face faded away. "We changed a lot in two years," she started to say. "Once upon a time I was that broken teenage girl showing up at your doorstep because I was convinced I had nowhere else to go, and now I can't go home even if I wanted to." Ezra's fragile heart sunk to the pit of his stomach hearing Aria say that, yet another reminder that this bliss wasn't going to last forever.

Parting his lips, Ezra struggled with what to say. "I did lie about a lot of things, Aria." He broke one of her hands from their clasp and gently grazed his thumb over the back of it. Here she was, the person he'd been longing to see, and he couldn't even look her in the eye. "But like I tried to tell you, I never lied about my feelings for you."

Aria took her other hand and placed it over Ezra's. For a moment she just reveled in the feeling of touching someone else, something she won't be doing for a long time. "I already knew—_know_—that," she confessed. "But I was upset—"

"You had every right to be," Ezra interrupted her. Now that he'd gotten some of his feelings out, he was ready to explode with all that he had to say. "I was going to tell you. But then a week passed, and then a month. Keeping it a secret seemed better than opening a can of worms in a relationship I was getting addicted to, and what we were building was so young and weak in the beginning that it would have broken irreparably if that was revealed. That weekend at the cabin I came so close, and I only came out desperate and irrational because I thought Spencer was getting closer to figuring it out and—"

"Ezra, calm down," Aria shushed him, giggling softly. Whenever he got caught in rambles like this, barely able to dig himself out without assistance, she knew he was conflicted. "I know why you did what you did. If I had known that this was going to be how our story ended, I would have accepted that weekend at the cabin without another thought."

However, Ezra wasn't done, even with Aria's interruption. "I felt like we were breaking apart."

"Like our story was changing, maybe for the worst," Aria added.

"And our time was limited. I felt it as soon as I saw Spencer putting the pieces together. I told you before, I wasn't ready to give you up, especially now that I'd gotten you back."

Aria bent her head down so that her hair fell in front of her and she focused on her finger drawing lines in the sand. "At first I didn't know it, but I was alive up until I crossed that border where the trees meet the beach. If I had known that I would have stayed. But I crossed it, and somewhere you watched me take my last breath." The corners of her lips fell from the reminder of the memory, and Ezra's forehead wrinkled in confusion from the change of topic. "I could hear you. You were begging for me to open my eyes."

"Yeah," Ezra croaked, biting the inside of his cheek. "I did."

Sighing, Aria scooted away from Ezra, who was concerned by her sudden movement. "Where are you going?" he asked, alarmed.

"Nowhere yet," she said. "But I'm not tied to this place forever. You know just as well as I do that you'll wake up soon and I'll be gone."

Ezra scoffed and shook his head, gulping away the lump in his throat. "Last time I said we weren't tied to this place, I was talking about Rosewood, not the world."

"Ezra." Aria reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "I'm okay."

"How can you be okay?" snapped asked, frustrated. "You never got to escape that place. You were going to travel the world, go to college. Instead the enemy finally got what he wanted, not realizing how many people he'd hurt…"

"Listen, Ezra. _We_ were going to do those things. But look at me, please. I'm okay. See? I'm okay now."

"I just keeping thinking," Ezra spilled out as his pent-up tears also watered over, "how I still have so much to say, and now that you're here I can't let you go. Not again. It was hard enough the first time."

"Ezra," Aria warned him. She tried to pull her hand away, but he grabbed her wrist.

"No! I'm not ready," he exclaimed. "I wasn't ready the first time easier." For some reason Ezra felt an indescribable anger overtake him. "Why did you have to bring me here, huh? To torture me by telling me I can't have you? First it was the law, then it was your dad, then it was you. I can't have you telling me the same thing again. It would kill me."

Once Ezra was finished, Aria stood up and slipped her wrist out of Ezra's hand before offering it to him. "You once told me," Aria said as Ezra got up on his feet, "that what we had was the most real and honest thing in your life." Shrugging, she let go of his hand and now had to look up at him because of their height difference. "And I said I already know how you feel about me. Ezra, that's still true even now. You don't need to tell me what I already know."

Shoulders slumping, Ezra knew what she was getting at. "Is this goodbye then?"

Aria tilted her head to the side, a look of concentration on her face. "I don't like to think of it as goodbye," she said. "Goodbye is never really goodbye for us, is it?"

"No," Ezra admitted with a weak laugh. "It's not." His eyes drifted down to her neck, and he was shocked that he hadn't noticed the silver chain before. "Your locket," he exclaimed, reaching out his finger to smooth over the engraved letter A.

"Yeah," Aria said, cupping it in her hands. "You buried me with it, I guess."

"I wanted you to always have it," he explained. "It felt selfish keeping it to myself as a reminder when I had so many grateful memories in my head."

Aria smiled sweetly, cracking it open and staring at the pictures. One was of their first picture together as a couple, and another was of their first outing after they made their relationship public. Her thumb ran over that picture; she looked so happy. "Thank you." Then, because there was nothing left to really say, she stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't mope around forever," Aria whispered when she pulled away. "For my sake."

Ezra watched as Aria turned around and started walking away, her white dress blowing behind her. He shoved his hands in his pockets; his heart ached. He should have told her he loved her like the last time they said goodbye like this, but like Aria said she already knew how he felt about her.

"Wait," Ezra cried out without thinking. Aria halted and looked over her shoulder, her hands still clasping her locket. "Why do you always walk away from me?"

One corner of Aria's lips turned up in a half-smile. Finally, a question she could really answer without the fear of being wrong or conflicted. "Because I know you'll always come back for me."

As Aria turned away, she thought deeply of the man she was leaving behind. She'd been cruelly ripped away from him, her friends, and her family, but she wasn't about to hold a grudge now that she had made her true last amends. It was time to move forward.

Meanwhile, Ezra was walking away in the other direction. His heart was racing in his chest, and suddenly he reacted on impulse and he whipped around, ready to run back to her.

But she was already gone.

…

When Ezra jolted out of sleep, he immediately jumped off of the couch and ran to the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water. Had that really just seen her, talked to her, touched her? By the bloodshot eyes staring back at him through the mirror, he knew it was real.

After taking several deep breaths and drying his face, Ezra studied the apartment around him. Everything reminded him of her, from the couch to the dining table to the kitchen counter. But then he saw Aria's things splayed out on the coffee table.

Picking up the book, he noticed a page had been marked and a quote had been highlighted. "Love is like a wind stirring the grass beneath trees on a black night," Ezra read out loud. "You must not try to make love definite. It is the divine accident of life. If you try to be definite and sure about it and to live beneath the trees, where soft night winds blow, the long hot day of disappointment comes swiftly and the gritty dust from passing wagons gathers upon lips inflamed and made tender by kisses." When he finished, Ezra chuckled to himself. That was Aria all right, a romantic at heart.

Reading the book aloud triggered a series of memories in Ezra's head. He remembered that Aria had liked it when he had read to her, mostly because she fell into a sound sleep when he spoke and also because she enjoyed his humorous interpretations of the characters. Sitting down on the bed, Ezra turned on the lamp and crawled onto his side, staring at the empty right side where Aria had once slept a couple nights a week.

"Chapter four," Ezra read, then paused. It was slightly awkward that he was talking to an empty spot. But the more he thought about it, the more he was able to picture Aria curled next to him, wearing one of his oversized shirts and listening intently as though she was a child being read a bedtime story. And that was exactly how he wanted to remember her.

Turning his attention back to the book, Ezra found it easier to smile as he thought of Aria's life and not her death. "Chapter four," he repeated. "The fruition of the year had come and the night should have been fine with a moon in the sky and the crisp sharp promise of frost in the air, but it wasn't that way…"

And from somewhere beyond the world where she waited in peace, Aria listened.


	2. Sequel: Chapter 1

**A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a couple days and I decided to write it. Actually, ZombiepiEs was the one who brought this idea to me, so I hope you enjoy what I did with it. I don't know how long it's going to be yet but it won't be novel long or anything.**  
><strong>It's going to be sad. It's going to be rough. But overall, it's going to be awesome. Here it is: the sequel to "In the Garden of Eden."<strong>

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><p><strong>In the Garden of Eden<strong>

**Chapter 1**

**Summary: **It's been six months since Aria's death, and it's on this anniversary that Spencer and Ezra are visited by an unlikely individual.

Six months ago, her friend had been put six feet in the ground at this very spot, her name engraved beautifully in a headstone above a quote by Emily Dickinson. Six months and she still didn't feel like any time had passed since that night she'd seen her friend shot in the heart by their notorious enemy.

Spencer Hastings sighed audibly, her shoulders curling up as she tried to prevent her eyes and nose from watering. She knelt in front of the grave, a bouquet of roses and daisies, Aria's favorite, clasped in her clenched hands with knuckles paling white. "I'm packing for UPenn," Spencer said to herself, though she liked to think Aria was listening. "My parents even bought me a TV! Can you believe it?" Of course, she was met by silence. "I know what you'd say. You'd say, 'I'm not surprised. The Hastings fortune has its perks. Why can't you use it to buy me those feather earrings?' And then I'd roll my eyes and you'd emphasize how serious you were being." She sniffled and ran her hand under her nose, laughing to herself. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't want to be emotional, but here I am! But I can see it. God, I can see it."

Propped next to the stone gravestone was another smaller bouquet of roses and daisies and a book. Spencer had a hunch about who had left it, but she reluctantly reached forward anyway and picked up the copy of _Emma. _Flipping open the cover, there was an entire note scribbled on the side. _Aria,_ it said. _I know _Pride and Prejudice _isn't your favorite, so I brought you this one. I remember you reading it over the summer and laughing through the whole thing, and when you finally finished it, it was midnight and I was practically asleep and you had to wake me up just to tell me how much you loved it. This was the copy you left at my place. I wish I could hear that laugh again, but… I don't want to get into that. I want today to be a time to celebrate your life, not your death. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this a second time. Love, Ezra._

Spencer scoffed and shook her head. "I see Ezra has been here already. But by the fact he's here at least once a week, I'm not surprised. I wish I could make it out here more." Scrunching her nose, she gazed up at the partially cloudy sky. It was an impeccable, warm summer day, and when she looked back down at Aria's grave a few tears had spilled over. "It looks like your parents and Mike haven't been here yet. But I don't blame them. Why should I lie? They hate this place. They don't want to believe you're down there."

After a minute of sitting in peace, Spencer stood up and brushed the grass off her knees. "Well, I have to go. See you when I can." She laid the bouquet next to Ezra's and walked away, turning around once and staring at the grave. "I miss you every day," she whispered, and continued to stroll towards her car.

By the time she reached home, her heart had sunk to the bottom of her feet. She moped into the house and climbed up the stairs, every movement feeling like a heavy effort.

Finally she plopped onto her bed and dug her face into her pillow, the cotton pillowcase capturing the tears she'd been holding back. Every day Spencer was reminded of Aria, and how she hadn't been able to finish her senior year. In the back of Spencer's mind she'd dreamed of her and Aria's future, full of birthdays and weddings and—who really knew?—baby showers. It was cheesy and typical, but it was the kind of content future she saw her and Aria having, along with all their friends, after A was ridded from their lives. It was the kind of future she and Aria had planned since they were little kids, doodling their wedding dresses in their Lisa Frank notebooks while discussing the names they wanted to give their future children and pets. Those were the awkward stages where Spencer had been the frizzy-haired nerd and Aria the doe-eyed outsider and they had been each other's only company.

"I want a ferret named Jack," Aria had told Spencer years ago, "and if I have a boy his name will be Jeremy, Jem for short." It wasn't until later that Aria had read _The Great Gatsby _and fallen in love with the name Daisy. She had even called Spencer to tell her about it as Spencer rolled her eyes and lightly berated Aria for naming her kids after fictional characters…though she was planning the same thing.

"That's cute," Spencer had said with a giggle. "I want a ferret, too. I can name her Rose. And if I have a girl, I'd name her Hermione."

"Of course," Aria had replied while rolling her eyes. "Why didn't I guess that before?"

The memory vanished and Spencer was back in the present, her face pressed into the feather pillow. She could practically hear Aria's voice taunting her, both of them laughing until their stomachs ached as they realized how burdening it was to name children after people who never existed in the first place.

…

Meanwhile, Ezra was parked in front of the Montgomery house, debating whether to go through with his plan or not. He'd promised Byron that he'd be there for them—especially for Ella, who had fallen into clinical depression after Aria's early passing—but he honestly didn't want to go to Aria's grave again. On any other day he loved visiting it, feeling close to her despite the fact that the soul he'd fallen in love with was God knew where. But today was a different day, a more fragile, unstable day.

Visiting her grave twice six months after her passing just didn't seem comfortable to Ezra. It was hard enough leaving her the book and bouquet, but now he had to escort her family and watch them mourn, too. Maybe he should have taken up Spencer's offer and met her at The Brew.

After Ezra had recounted his experience of seeing Aria for the last time to Spencer, Spencer had admitted she'd gone through the same thing, and they'd both banded together to get through the rocky future. Neither wanted to go together to Aria's grave, since both had wanted their alone time with her, but Spencer had suggested meeting up for coffee once they'd said what they'd wanted to. But Ezra had declined, saying he had made a commitment to the Montgomerys.

The front door to the house opened and out stepped Ella and Mike, Mike supporting his already crying mother with his arms. Byron followed behind and waved solemnly to an uncomfortable Ezra waiting in his car to take them to the cemetery.

"Thank you for doing this, Ezra," Ella croaked as she pulled out a pack of tissues and dabbed at her puffy eyes. She and Mike occupied the back seat while Byron sat in the passenger seat. However, before Byron climbed in, Ezra swore he saw Aria sitting there, batting her hazel eyes flirtatiously at him. But after he'd blinked and shook his head, she was gone. And he didn't really blame himself for seeing her, it being the six month anniversary of her death and all that.

"It's no problem, Ella," Ezra responded as politely as he could.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" she continued to cry, her words wobbling. "It's so perfect for Aria."

"It is, isn't it?" Ezra replied and glanced in the rearview mirror, at Ella, who was blowing into a tissue, and Mike, who was staring bitterly out the side window. Seeing Ella so upset rattled Ezra, even though he tried to not let it get to him. But Ella was so broken, and Ezra started to wonder how he was able to get through each day without Aria when this poor woman was struggling without her baby girl. Because in all honesty, was there really a difference between loving a daughter or a soulmate?

As Ezra turned on the ignition and pulled away from the curb, Byron smiled forcefully at him and nodded his head courteously. "You're a good man, Ezra," he said and patted Ezra's shoulder, almost like a father would do to his son. "I should have told you that a long time ago, but…" He trailed off and didn't finish his sentence. There was a twinge in the pit of Ezra's stomach that told him that he'd finally won over Byron's approval.

It was unfortunate that Byron had accepted him now. Ezra only wished that it hadn't taken Aria's life for him to do so.

…

Spencer's head was still molded into the pillow long after she'd stopped crying. Her head kept replaying long ago memories of her and Aria as kids, of their innocence and fun. Eventually their conversations about adorable animals and outdoor games turned into whispered, secretive whispers about clandestine relationships and A problems. "Wanna play hide and seek?" had turned into "Can you be my alibi for tonight? I want to stay overnight, but you know how my dad is…" She longed to relive those talks, even if it was Aria complaining about the horrible tie Ezra had worn the other day. What Spencer would do to hear Aria's voice again was unbelievable.

"You miss me every day, huh?"

Whipping her head up, Spencer frantically searched her room for where the voice had come from, her pupils panicking while adjusting to the light, and she bit back a scream when she saw Aria sitting in front of her. "Wha—," she attempted to squeak out, but her throat couldn't work.

"I know. The last thing you'd expect to see was me." Aria uncrossed her legs and leaned forward into the desk chair, propping her elbows up and smiling widely. "But it's nice to see you too, Spence."


	3. Sequel: Chapter 2

**A/N: Aww, your reviews are so sweet! I'm more than glad that this story has touched many of you, even if it's torn up your heart! For those of you with some burning questions from the cliffhanger, this chapter should answer most, if not all, of it. **

**I can't thank you enough for reading! Y'all mean so much to me, I want to cry.**

* * *

><p><strong>In the Garden of Eden<strong>

**Chapter 2**

"But…but…," Spencer stuttered, unable to form the proper words. "You're—"

"Dead?" Aria interrupted and nodded her head. "Yes, I am. For six months exactly, I believe."

"But you…" Spencer skimmed her palms across her face and felt the clamminess on her cheeks. Was this a dream, perhaps? Or did Aria the ghost have mind-reading superpowers and had read Spencer's thoughts on longing to see and hear her again? After a moment of emotional and mental turmoil, Spencer stammered thoughtlessly, "W-we said goodbye a long time ago."

"Yeah, I know that, too. But I just had to see you again, Spence." Aria sighed and looked Spencer up and down. "Because you're a mess."

It was true, to say the least. Spencer's eyes were embellished with dark circles, she'd let her hygiene go a bit, she rarely wore makeup or bothered to look nice, and she'd lost weight and was currently under the healthy BMI for her age and height. Shivering, Spencer drew her knees up to her chest and continued to stare, wide-eyed and in disbelief, at the seemingly real person in front of her. "What would you expect?" she croaked. "For me to just forget about you and move on? I'm not selfish, Aria."

"I'm not saying you are. Trust me, being dead doesn't make the pain go away as easily as people think it does. I was lost for a long time without you or Ezra or our friends or my family…," Aria explained and stood up. She strode to Spencer's bedside and sat next to her, Spencer's bugged-out eyes widening to their full capacity as the mattress molded to fit Aria's petite shape as though she was a solid body and not just a drifting soul. Curiously, Spencer reached out and watched as her hand passed right through Aria. In a way, Spencer was kicked in the heart, because for a moment she genuinely wanted to believe with all her being that this was real, and Aria had never been buried in the first place.

"Hey, that's my spleen!" Aria joked as Spencer straightened up and scooted away a bit from Aria. "Or, _was _my spleen." The smile on Aria's face dropped into a frown while Spencer continued to just blink, dumbfounded, at her, as though she was a grotesque mythical creature. "I'm sorry I just dropped in like this. But I saw that you were still stuck in the same place you were six months ago, and I…" Aria shrugged her shoulders and glanced at the embroidered bedspread. "I wanted to help, and…I wanted to see you again."

"Are…," Spencer stammered, her throat closing up and tightening with each word as she prevented the multiplying sobs from bursting out. "Are you here to stay?"

Again, Aria shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know how this paranormal stuff works."

"B-but—" Spencer paused for a moment and just stared at Aria, the figure who looked so real and built of flesh yet her hand had gone right through her a minute ago. Eventually, a forced laugh exited her throat, and she shook her head to convince herself that none of this was true. "This can't be! I said goodbye thinking that that was the last I'd see you until my dying day."

Aria chewed on her bottom lip and guiltily shifted her gaze away from Spencer's broken, betrayed, astounded eyes. "If it makes you feel better," she mumbled, "I had no idea I was able to come here until a couple months ago."

"_A couple months ago_?" Spencer blurted without thinking, an unexplainable fury roiling inside her. "Aria, if you knew you could come back like this, then why the heck didn't you come as soon as you found out?"

"Because look at yourself!" Aria slid off the bed and stood up, now as riled up as Spencer was. "I've been back for five minutes and already I know that you're going to cling to me until you're dead!"

"Because I just might!" Spencer shouted and stood up also, intimidatingly crossing her arms as she and Aria had a showdown.

"Then why would you want me to come back, huh?" Aria threw back. "If you're only going to be miserable looking at me, then why would you want to see me again?"

"Because…because…" Spencer struggled with the right words and let all of her breath out at one time, placing her hands over her eyes and rubbing them roughly. "I don't know, okay? It's like, yeah, it'd be great to see you, but seeing you is like a slap in the face every time I have to remind myself that you're dead and none of this is real!" Spencer peeked through her fingers and saw Aria standing there, a five-foot-two young woman with her hands on her hips, and bit the inside of her cheek. "God, I still can't believe you're here."

Aria gulped and her shoulders loosened into a slouch. Uncertainly, she headed towards Spencer's desk and picked up a picture of Spencer, Emily, Hanna, Toby, Caleb, and Paige at prom. Looking closer, Aria saw a boxed corsage in Hanna's hand, and Aria assumed they had bought it for her as a tribute, since a dead person couldn't really attend prom. The sight was a bit unsettling, seeing her friends smiling at the camera yet holding that lonely corsage meant for someone who was no longer alive. "Maybe…" Aria hesitated. "Maybe I shouldn't have come back."

At first, Spencer opened her mouth, ready to agree. But then she clamped her lips shut and made herself think before she spoke and realized that Aria was here now, and if she shooed her away she'd forever feel guilty. "No," she spoke up after thirty seconds of silence. "You're here anyway. So you might as well stay and…fix me, or whatever."

Turning around, Aria cocked her head and smirked at Spencer. "I don't want to _fix _you," she corrected her. "I'm here to help you cope. Or adapt, if you prefer that verb. And… I was lonely. I missed everyone here."

Licking her dry, cracked lips, Spencer reached for the chapstick she hadn't touched in a long time, seeing no need to use it as she wasted away, with a tremulous hand. After uncapping it, she smothered it on the sensitive skin of her mouth, which sighed in relief while soaking up the soothing balm, and glanced up at Aria, the motion of her hand pausing as she noticed the red ooze soaking through Aria's shirt. "Um…" Spencer was speechless, her mouth moving but no words coming out.

By Spencer's pale, frightened face, Aria raised an eyebrow in suspicion then followed her path of vision. There, right where her heart was, were a few specks of crimson on her blouse. She undid the buttons of the blouse and pulled it down, revealing a rather clean, deep hole in her chest. "Hmm," she hummed curiously while Spencer seemed like she was going to faint. "That's new. Well, not new, because this is the shot that killed me, but for my time as a ghost, yes, it's new."

"W-why," Spencer stuttered once she found her voice again, "why is it there? Does it hurt? How can there be blood if you're not…human?"

"Of course it doesn't hurt! I'm dead, remember? Physical pain can't exist when you aren't even made up of nerve endings anymore," Aria reassured Spencer and waved it off as she re-buttoned the shirt. "Like I said, I don't know how this paranormal stuff works, but I guess if you return to the earth you have to gain what you lost on it."

Not really sure what to say anymore, Spencer stayed silent and played with a loose strand on her pillowcase. Twiddling with her thumbs, Aria hesitantly said, "Actually…" Spencer looked up, and a pang rushed through Aria's body-less spirit by the uncertainty in Spencer's stare. They were best friends, and just because she no longer had a body, did that make her really that much different? She was still the same Aria as before, not some emotionless zombie, but she couldn't blame Spencer; seeing ghosts wasn't really a comforting thing. "Before I forget, can you give Ezra something for me?"

Spencer scoffed. "What would he need? I ransacked your room and took everything of value, I promise."

Aria was torn between saying a sarcastic "thanks" or just waving off the thought that Spencer had torn through her room like a tornado, probably seeing the Barbie dolls she'd hidden in her closet because she couldn't part from her childhood just yet and the naughty lingerie set from Victoria's Secret that Ali had made her buy before high school started, claiming that, despite Aria's discomfort and protest, "you never know what's going to happen." It was followed by one of Ali's signature winks. "See, that's where you were wrong. Just listen, okay?" Aria finally said indifferently. "Can you go to my house right now?"

…

At Aria's doorstep that afternoon, Spencer knocked on the familiar door and anxiously waited for a reply. She was about to complain to Aria for dragging her here when the door opened and revealed Byron, looking well for having lost a daughter six months ago. "Hello, Spencer," he greeted her and forced a smile on his face. By his choice of dress, Spencer had guessed he had just gotten back from visiting Aria's grave.

"Hey, Mr. Montgmery," Spencer said politely and awkwardly. "I know this is strange, but… I think I left something in Aria's room, and I was wondering if I could try and find it," she lied on the spot.

"Of course," Byron said emotionlessly and stepped aside, allowing Spencer to come in. "Take as long as you like."

"Thanks, Mr. Montgomery." With that, he nodded his head kindly yet forcefully and walked away.

"He looks like he's holding up well," Aria commented as she watched her dad stride away into the kitchen. Yet, she could see a lost gleam in his hard, blue eyes. For the first time in a while she thought of how her parents had reacted when the police had shown up at their doorstep to report her death. Even though it seemed like Byron was doing well, it was probably all just a façade and he was struggling inside each day with the reminder that he wouldn't see his daughter hop down the stairs each morning for breakfast or even wear a graduation cap.

But Spencer ignored Aria's chitchat. "How didn't he see you?" she hissed as she and Aria walked up the stairs. "I was waiting for him to break down in tears and try to hold you in a hug."

"If I want someone to see me, I can," Aria explained, then shrugged her shoulders. "My dad… I wouldn't want to put him through that."

In Aria's room, Spencer shut the door quietly behind her and glanced around. The room had definitely been stripped a bit. All of her things that had some relation to Ezra were with Ezra, and Spencer, Hanna, and Emily had claimed some items as well, including clothes from Aria's closet. Spencer studied the room carefully, wondering what in the world Aria could have in here that Spencer had misinterpreted its importance.

"Open the drawer," Aria ordered her, a hint of anxiousness in her voice.

Mentally groaning, Spencer did. It was empty. "Okay?"

"Now, reach your hand in as far as you can and you can feel a small, hard-to-grip handle." Aria pursed her lips. "That's the best way I can describe it, I guess."

Spencer was surprised when she felt the tiny presence of what felt like a piece of looped thread. Tugging it, the bottom sprang up, revealing that it was a false bottom this whole time. Under it laid a pile of wrapped papers, and Spencer picked it up curiously.

"It's for Ezra," Aria repeated when she saw Spencer's eyes burn holes into the unknown present, aching to unlock its secrets. "Please give it to him when you can. I can't, obviously." To prove her point, her hand went right through her painting propped on the desk. "I was going to give it to him my graduation day, but…" She sighed and drenched herself in her dreary thoughts. "Hopefully, it'll help him now."

Mouth open and ready to speak, Spencer was going to say something but was interrupted by a disheveled Ella. "Spencer," Ella said while barging through the door. She had on loose pants and a tattered t-shirt, her limp, oily hair pulled back in a messy bun. Freaked, Spencer dropped the covered papers and pretended to organize it on the desk like she had just been straightening up Aria's room. "I don't want to rush you, but we're going out to an early dinner in a few minutes."

"Okay," Spencer squeaked, darting her eyes at Aria as Aria stood stiffly and held her breath. "I'll be done in a minute."

As Ella closed the door, Aria studied her mother until she couldn't see her no more. "How long has she been like that?" she whispered, her nonexistent heart breaking.

"Since you passed away," Spencer replied honestly and could barely look at Aria's shattered face.

"Oh," Aria croaked. "I guess… I guess I never watched my family."

"It was too much?" Spencer said in a hushed, soothing tone, as she naturally did when Aria needed to be comforted.

"Yeah," Aria whispered and glanced down at her toes, jabbing the leg of the bed with her foot. "It was."

Reaching out for Aria's hand, the reassuring smile dissipated from Spencer's lips and she recoiled, realizing that she would go right through Aria anyway. "Come on," she said, slightly shaken by the reminder that Aria was a ghost. "Let's go."

After they exited the house, Spencer headed straight for her car and didn't notice Aria had lagged behind until she unlocked the doors. "Aria," Spencer called out as she watched Aria stand in her front yard, gazing up at her house. "Are you coming?"

Sighing, Aria took one more sweep of her home and shook her head. "No," she confessed. "I actually have someone else to see."

"Okay." The nerves in Spencer's sensitive brain lit up, and nervousness crept in her. "Will I see you later?"

Aria looked over her shoulder at Spencer's worried face and grinned widely. "Of course," she replied, and she could see Spencer give a sigh of relief. "After dinner."

"See you then," Spencer yelled out while climbing in her car, still suspiciously watching Aria stare at what once was where she lived and grew up. That's when she realized that if people had been walking by, they would have seen her talking to no one, and she quickly scanned the surrounding area for anyone who might have seen her, turned on the ignition, and pulled out of the driveway, feeling embarrassed for talking to thin air like a maniac at Radley.

For a few more minutes Aria just stood there, hands in her pockets, at the place she'd wished she could return to with more than anything. There, through the kitchen window, she could see her parents and Mike preparing to go out like Ella had said. They eventually exited through the front door and walked right past Aria without realizing it. Tears brimming in her eyes, Aria opened her mouth to say something, but shut it right away when she remembered she didn't want them to see her. So instead she watched as the family, seemingly put together at the seams, though it had been loosely sewn, piled into the car and drove away from her, too.

Closing her eyes, Aria felt the tears run down her cheeks and wanted to cry more when she realized that she had forgotten the painful sensation of sobbing in the six months she'd been in her own lonely paradise. Aching to get away from this place, she repeated her desired destination in her head, and somehow she vanished to exactly where she wanted to go next.


	4. Sequel: Chapter 3

**In the Garden of Eden**

**Sequel: Chapter 3**

After a grueling hour of watching her family mourn over Aria's grave, Ezra slammed the door to his apartment and flopped onto his couch. For a few minutes he laid there, staring at the ceiling as the sound of the ticking clock was tuned out, and eventually he closed his droopy eyes.

The memory played before him like a film strip being projected on a wall. "No fair!" Aria squealed as Ezra flipped the coin and it landed on heads for the tenth time. "That coin is rigged! It's _my _turn to choose the movie!" She lunged forward and tried to snatch the quarter out of Ezra's palm, but before she could grab it he had it clamped in a fist over his head. "I can't watch _Chinatown _forever, Ezra! Just give up!" she whined, and folded her knees under her in order to better reach Ezra's grasp.

"Come on, Aria, one last time," he pleaded. "You slept in until noon, I _know _you can get through it this time."

Sighing dramatically, Aria fell back onto the couch and stretched her legs out in front of her, her ankles falling onto Ezra's lap. A few seconds passed where she just stared at him thoughtfully, then she rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine, we'll watch it," she groaned, and Ezra mentally congratulated himself. "But at least let me change into my pajamas in case I fall asleep expectedly."

"No, you won't!" Ezra contradicted her as she raised her eyebrows mockingly and giggled before closing the bathroom door behind her.

Ezra's eyes fluttered open and for that first disorienting second he could still hear the echo of her laughter in his ears. Instinctually, he glanced at the bathroom door, but it was open and it was light outside, not night. For a hopeless moment he had thought maybe the past six months were a dream and that the memory was real. To prevent his mind from wandering even more into a swirling abyss, he sat up and immediately saw the row of books.

Crossing over to the bookshelf, Ezra scanned every spine. _Brave New World, A Farewell to Arms, Sense and Sensibility. _Aria had read all of them, even the dreadful _Anna Karenina_. His finger ran over a battered copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird._ It was strange to think she had once held it, flipping the pages and reading the words. He remembered that Aria had once told him she liked the name Jeremy, Jem for short. She had thought it would be cute to name a little boy that. But she still couldn't decide if she had liked Daisy or Charlotte (because she liked both _Gatsby_ and_ Jane Eyre_) more for a little girl. He guessed she never would decide now.

His shaky hand reached forward and clasped the picture frame sitting next to the books, the ones that were once Aria's favorites. It was the first picture they had taken out in public together, which had been followed by a series of other photos as they spent the day out and about. Ezra's thumb grazed over Aria's image, a silent tear rolling down his stubbly chin. "You know what it was like spending your eighteenth birthday without you here?" he asked the picture as though the Aria image would answer him. "We were looking so forward to it, and you never got there." Sighing hopelessly, he traced Aria's face with his finger. "We…we had plans."

But the Aria and Ezra in the photo just stared at him, gleaming with a happiness he hadn't felt in months. Though they were once real, they no longer were, and the capture of that moment made Ezra's heart ache more and so he returned it to its dusty spot.

His fingers hovered over the novel by Harper Lee before grabbing it and propping it in his hands while sitting on the bed. A bit awkwardly he glanced at the empty spot next to him, and for the millionth time he questioned his sanity. For the past six months he's been reading to her; it comforted him that she might be listening. And since he knew Aria, he knew that she couldn't go long without rereading this book. So he went to the first page and read the epigraph. "Lawyers, I suppose, were children once." Again, he looked to the right, but this time he closed his eyes and he could picture Aria laying there, huddled under the blankets as she propped her head on his shoulder, her eyes wide as an ignorant child's. Reopening his eyes, he flipped the page and commenced the first chapter. "When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow…"

Her eyes still shut tightly, Aria stood stiffly as her surroundings changed, and she became even more paralyzed when she heard his familiar voice. "Our mother died when I was two, so I never felt her absence," she could hear him narrate. "She was a Graham from Montgomery; Atticus met her when he was first elected to the state legislation."

Slowly fluttering her eyes open, Aria could feel the sobs coming again. She knew this voice. She knew this book. She knew both by heart.

"I did not miss her, but I think Jem did. He remembered her clearly, and sometimes in the middle of a game he would sigh at length, then go off and play by himself behind the car-house."

Stepping forward, Aria clasped her hands together at her chest, ghostly tears dripping down her cheeks. The entire situation felt unreal. The closer she got to the bed, the more her heart would have pounded if she still had one. She had listened to Ezra's readings from beyond, but she never got to see him perform his narrations.

"'Shoot no wonder then,' said Jem, jerking his thumb at me. 'Scout yonder's been readin' ever since she was born, and she ain't even started to school yet. You look right puny for goin' on seven.'"

Slowly Aria approached the bed and Ezra, climbing onto the right side and noticing that unlike at Spencer's, when somehow her soul had dented the mattress, she was floating over it like a drifting cloud.

Snuggling onto the covers she couldn't feel, Aria gazed up at Ezra who still hadn't been informed of her presence. "The Radley Place fascinated Dill. In spite of our warnings and explanations it drew him as the moon draws water, but drew him no nearer than the light-pole on the corner, a safe distance from the Radley gate. There he would stand, his arm around the fat pole…"

Unbeknownst to Ezra, Aria kept listening, lying next to him and shutting her eyes as chapter two ended. Once he finished, he shut the book and stared at Aria, and Aria stared back. Though he could not see her, Aria smiled softly as he said, "Well, that's a good start for tonight, don't you think?" And Aria nodded her head in agreement, even though she wanted him to keep reading forever.

Ezra set the book on the nightstand and turned off the light, not bothering to comb his hair or even brush his teeth. The energy it took for him to prevent himself from falling into an unrecoverable depression exhausted him, and he was asleep within minutes, still unaware that Aria was there on her spot.

Sitting up, Aria peered over at Ezra's sleeping face, and after a few seconds of mental debate she shakily reached out her hand and pretended to graze his cheek with her finger, knowing that if she tried to touch it she would go right through him.

However, the hovering touch held no satisfaction. She wanted to feel the warm, stubbly skin of his jawline, and curl next to him with her head nuzzled in his shoulder, their rhythmic heart beats lulling her to content sleep. After returning to Earth, she had been becoming more and more restless by the minute, almost regretting coming back due to the things she missed.

Slowly Aria moved her hand away from Ezra, disappointed that she had been unable to feel anything at all, not even the heat radiating off his living body. And she planted her hands beside her and leaned forward, longing to kiss him on the cheek, but instead she just continued to gaze affectionately at him.

And then she spoke.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For reading to me. It's really boring up there, so…" She shrugged her shoulders and scoffed, realizing there was no point if he wasn't going to respond. Her eyes clouded with phantom tears, and her bottom lip wobbled. Sniffling, she reached forward and pretended to graze his jaw one last time. "Thank you."

And she scooted off the bed, unaware that a dreamy smile crossed Ezra's face, for in his dreams he had seen her bent over him saying those exact same words, her appearance angelic and her hair glowing like a halo from the burning white light behind her.

While Aria passed through apartment 3B, she stalled at Ezra's desk and noted the new frames he'd put up of him and her, the pictures having come from an album she had made for him on their one year anniversary. It was a beautiful tribute but contradictorily heart-wrenching.

Spencer had yet to deliver Aria's manuscript to Ezra, but Aria observed that Ezra had been working on a manuscript of his own the past six months. The pages were laid out on the desk, and she couldn't help but read what she was able to see.

_The Day Before You Left Me, _the first page was titled. Nonexistent heart racing, Aria read on with an uneasy feeling.

_She was unusually happy that morning, entering the apartment with a box of key lime pie in her hands. I swiveled around in my desk chair and watched as she sashayed to the kitchen, setting the pie on the counter while humming and taking out two plates and forks. Perplexed, I amusingly studied this overly joyous version of my girlfriend of almost a year and a half, and she didn't greet me until she had cut two slices and handed me one plate._

"_What's gotten into you?" I asked her as she shoved a forkful of pie in her mouth and thoughtlessly sat on my lap. _

"_Oh, just the thought of winter break coming up and how I have the perfect Christmas present for you."_

_My stomach fluttered. Usually Christmas stressed me out, but it had been surprisingly easy shopping for Aria. She was always talking about earrings, books, new vegan food, and black and white movies, so I had a clear idea of what she would enjoy. While jewelry was cliché, it wasn't to Aria. That's why buying the large, dangling diamond earrings didn't leave me with an uncertain hole in my heart._

_I set my plate aside and wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "Will you be spending any of that holiday time here?" I asked with a hopeful grin._

_Setting her empty plate next to mine, she winked. "I believe I do have some time for that this year." To tease me more, she tangled her arms around my neck and pecked me a few times on the lips, not giving in to a deeper kiss so that she could continue her mischievous behavior, as key lime pie always suggested, as I began to wonder what she had gotten me that was so great._

"_What's so great about this present of yours?" I prodded her, and she frowned, mockingly upset that I had spoiled the moment._

"_I can't necessarily wrap it," she teased, "but you'll know what it is when I hand it to you."_

The page ended there, and Aria went on to the one next to it, another page with the title _The Moments Before You Were Gone. _

_The sky was pitch black, not a star shining down on us, and the alleyway Alison was leading us down was only lit by a few old-style oil lamps, one of which was flickering between life and death. Aria kept ahead of me, every once in a while turning around and poring her worried eyes into mine, and I jogged up next to her and squeezed her hand, which she returned gratefully._

"_Where are we going, Ali?" Spencer huffed, obviously irritated, like we all were, at Ali's games. Now she was sending us on a wild goose chase to find A, and an abandoned, dimly-lit alley did not seem like an ideal place to be if an anonymous murderer was stalking you._

_But Alison didn't answer. Aria's warm hand slipped out of mine, leaving me feeling cold and oddly panicked. I watched as Aria caught up to a pacing Alison, and grabbed her arm. "What the heck are we doing here, Ali?" she hissed. "This is a total set up!"_

"_Shut up, Aria," Alison snapped and roughly tugged her arm out of Aria's grasp. "I know what I'm doing. This is it, okay? We're going to catch A."_

_As Alison returned to her brisk walk into the depths of the alley, I hesitantly kept walking alongside the other girls, looking at how Aria stood still in her spot, visibly irked. Just as she was taking a step, Emily must have seen something, because she cried, "Aria, look out!"_

_And like that I was darting towards her. Something inside of me snapped and all I knew was that I had to get in front of her. But all I felt as I fell to the concrete ground was a burning sensation in my finger, and the shot ringing in my ear. Her frightened eyes blinked at me before she collapsed, and the blood soaked into the ground._

There was one more page on the desk that Aria could make out, though she wished she could read everything and move the papers aside. _The Seconds After I Lost You _Aria read on the top of the page_._

_On shaky knees Spencer supported herself on the brick wall, but instantly found herself unable to stay standing, and she crumbled to the floor in shock. Emily and Hanna stood next to her, holding each other and sobbing, while Alison kept her distance, her arms crossed at her chest coldly. _

_I shook the jacket off my trembling body and laid it over her, not caring that the blood on my hands had smeared onto the expensive leather. Her bleeding wound soaked my shirt, but I didn't care. In fact, I was barely able to comprehend anything. All I knew for certain was that I still wanted her close to me, even if she was getting colder to the touch. _

_Even when the police showed up I still kept her with me, her limp body dangling lifelessly in my arms. From a few feet away, as she had told me later, it had finally dawned on Spencer what had happened, and just seeing her best friend's dark, nearly black hair spilling out from under my bloodied jacket was enough to make her vomit. _

"_Excuse me, sir," a policeman had gently spoken while standing in front of me. "You have to let her go."_

_But I didn't hear him. I had blocked out everything except for the dying warmth of her in my arms, and the hope that her eyes might still flutter open. The longer I stared at her paling face, the more I realized she was gone, and the more my vision clouded._

_The policeman crouched in front of me and put his hands under her, though it was impossible to loosen my grasp. "Let her go, son," he told me sorrowfully as I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. My head unconsciously shook back and forth, telling him no, I did not want to. Sympathetically he looked at me, and I looked back, no less willing to give her up even if she was just a shell of what she once was. "She's gone anyway. Let us take her."_

_And I let her go._

_I hated seeing them place her in that black body bag; I distracted myself by glaring down at my hands and at the locket I was turning around between my fingers. Aria had given it to me yesterday, as a promise that she would be seeing me on Christmas Eve, which is when I would have returned it to her. She treasured it, since it had been a customized gift, specially made, from me for our first Christmas last year. _

"_Wait," I called out, and despite my hollowness I ran to where they had placed her in the black plastic with a newfound strength. "Please," I begged them. "One more minute." And it was just me and her again._

_Though my entire body felt queasy and battered down, I clasped the locket around her neck with shaking fingers, my skin brushing hers and noticing how cold she was now. For the last time I rubbed my thumb across her cheek and adjusted the locket, stepping back as they returned and, as though she had never lived at all, pulled the zipper closed and took her away._

_I stuffed my tremulous hands in my pocket, foolishly thinking that the cold night air was the cause. A single, white speck fluttered in front of me, followed by another. I looked up into the starless sky and saw that it had begun to snow. _

Christmas_, I thought as the first snowfall of the winter swirled around me. _We talked about spending Christmas together.

_Christmas. That was right. We had promised._

Aria stepped back from Ezra's desk and gazed sadly at the bed where he slept. She had come here to speak to him, and had decided against that in a split second. But now that she was here, even if it was only part of her, he could have that Christmas they never got to spend. She could give him that much.

Striding to the bed, Aria climbed back onto the right side and curled as close to him as possible. She didn't want to think anymore. She just wanted to stay.


	5. Sequel: Chapter 4

**In the Garden of Eden**

**Sequel: Chapter 4**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Ezra blinked open his eyes, his vision blurred by drowsy sleep. Everything around him was muddled and unfocused. All he knew for sure was that the walls were white. There was something off about this scene; this was certainly not his apartment.

His heart rate sped up a bit to accommodate his new anxiety, and the beeping sound he had woken up to went faster with it. Just like that, everything was clear, and he glanced down at the IV in his arm, to the monitor on the side, to Aria standing over him.

Wait. _Aria? _Ezra reached up to rub his eyes but knocked into an oxygen mask over his mouth. Slowly he put his hand back down and stared at her, bug-eyed. Her hands were clean, but her clothes had traces of blood on it. Her blood, maybe? His blood? Ezra wasn't sure what he was doing in a hospital bed, but by her worried, strung-out expression, he suddenly knew it was his.

Her bottom lip trembled. "You're awake," she croaked as she apprehensively approached him.

"I am," Ezra tried to say, but was prohibited by the oxygen mask. He reached up and pulled it off before saying in a hoarse voice, "I am…" He cleared his throat and glanced around the room. "What happened?"

"You were shot," she explained and linked her fingers through his. "A shot you."

"But…," Ezra spoke up, confused, "_you _were shot."

Aria's pristine eyebrows wrinkled up and she shook her head. "No… I'm fine."

Tears pricked at Ezra's eyes. _I'm fine._ He repeated her words in his head. She was _okay_, and most of all she was _alive._

Once Aria realized how scatter-brained Ezra was, she brushed her thumb over the back of his hand and smiled. "Get some rest. I'll come back later." She pulled away her hand so she could return to the waiting room and call her friends, but Ezra clamped on to it. She turned around, confused by his desperate action.

"Please, stay for a few more minutes," he pleaded. "I already lost you once, and I don't want to lose you again."

Aria grinned slightly and turned back around, squeezing his hand. "I think it's more like the other way around."

"No," Ezra whispered, and her smile fell. Then he chuckled a bit out of the blue, and Aria cocked her head. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"It's just," he stammered, feeling the tears overwhelming his eyes again, "you're not going to believe what I had dreamed under that anesthesia."

"Oh?" Aria sat next to his legs on the hospital bed. "Enlighten me."

"Well...," Ezra began to tell, but struggled to find the right way to tell her that he had dreamed she had died. "It was horrible, really. More than horrible. Because for some horrific reason, I dreamed that you were shot instead of me. And I tried to save you, but…I couldn't."

Aria gazed at him in bewilderment. "I'm supposed to be…dead?" she whispered, and she put her hand at her chest in disbelief.

"It was just a dream." He reached out and grabbed Aria's other hand, the one clenched at her chest. "You're fine, just like you told me. And I'm going to be okay, too."

As soon as he held Aria's other hand, he felt the warm liquid on it. Turning her hand over, there was blood smeared all over her palm. The blood in his veins ran cold. When he looked at her, she was staring at her lap, silently crying. She was bleeding from the same spot where she was shot.

Except she _wasn't _shot. _Ezra_ was the one who was shot, not Aria. "Aria," he whispered, and reached forward to help her but was held back by an unseen force. "You're going to be okay," he tried to reassure her, and himself.

"No, Ezra," she said hopelessly. Finally, she looked up at him, her cheeks stained with black makeup. "You were right. I _was _shot." She placed her hand over her heart while more tears streamed down her face and dripped off her chin. "It wasn't just a dream."

The room started to fade and Ezra lost the ability to speak, paralyzed by his fear that this was happening all over again. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her she'd be fine again, but he couldn't. It kept getting darker and darker until the only thing he could sense was his name being called from far away.

"Ezra," whispered a female voice. He cracked open his eyelids, the darkness and paralyzing anxiety gone. "Ezra, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Speaking of a nightmare, Ezra recognized that voice. But it couldn't be. It had to be another cruel joke, just like that dream. He had been slapped in the face so many times with the truth, which was that Aria was dead. There was no way that this was her voice. As his vision cleared, he saw the brown hair, the ivory skin. Then he was staring into those familiar hazel eyes.

He almost jumped out of his skin, sitting up in his bed as fast as a bolt of lightning. But the Aria that was resting on her knees next to him reached out her hands. "Let me explain," she said quickly. Both of their eyes were widened in shock, and Aria's nonexistent heart was thumping just as rapidly as Ezra's existent one.

Ezra's tense muscles relaxed, though he was still cautious about the ghost in front of him. He blinked a few times, wondering if it was a dream again. But Aria was there—or, at least, a replica of her was. As Ezra calmed down, Aria did, too. She had been awoken from her ghostly sleep by a rapidly speaking Ezra, mumbling incoherently about her, his voice rising the more desperate he seemed to become. Aria tried to shake him awake, but remembered she couldn't, and instead started to repeat his name over and over. She was risking being seen, but by the matter-less tears she started to spill from witnessing his nightmare, she knew that she couldn't sit back and watch him suffer. Her mission was to bring peace—and she couldn't just bring it to Spencer because she was afraid that returning to Ezra would bring eternal longing and suffering that she was no longer a part of the living.

"Are you—"

"Still dead?" Aria interrupted him. "Last time I checked, yes."

Ezra opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, not knowing what to say but wanting to say so much. "I…I had a dream," he stammered, "t-that you were alive. I was shot instead, but you lived, and so did I. If I…" He paused and stared at Aria, overwhelmed by the multiple emotions bashing inside him. "If it had only been me, you…you would still be here."

The feeling Aria felt was like a sword slicing through her heart. She couldn't lie: Living seemed nice—_more_ than nice. But what was done was done. She had to let it go, and so did Ezra. Aria reached out to hold his hand, but was reminded for the hundredth time that she couldn't. "Forget that," she told him. "There's no point in dwelling in what can't be fixed. Just listen." Ezra obeyed, too dumbfounded to do anything otherwise. He was certain that six months ago was the last time he'd see Aria. But obviously he was wrong.

"I came back because I wanted to, and I miss everyone. I want to help." Aria sighed and scooted closer to him. "I'm here to stay, at least for now. We can talk tomorrow, so try to get some sleep. Please." Processing everything, Ezra nodded his head and followed her suggestion. Sleep. That was what he needed. He'd sleep, and everything would make more sense in the morning.

As Ezra lied back down and fluttered his eyes closed, still shocked into a state of confusion and speechlessness, Aria reached out and hovered her transparent hand over his very real one. She squeezed her eyes closed, her head thudding with the pain of a thousand battling emotions, and remembered. She filtered through hundreds of memories before coming upon a blissful one. Reopening her eyes, she leaned back and stared at Ezra, who had fallen into what looked like a peaceful enough slumber. Hopefully they'll be able to talk more clearly once their racing emotions have calmed down.

Getting off the bed, Aria strode towards the desk again, skimming the papers spread out across it. The life they could have had, she thought, as her fingers longingly grazed the manuscript, of the Christmas they hadn't spent. Her return had only stirred up so much trouble, had only reopened so many wounds, she wondered if she could bring any peace and acceptance at all.

…

That morning, Spencer had gotten an urgent text from Ezra saying they needed to talk and to meet him at The Brew. She had a pretty good idea what he wanted to talk about, and she grabbed the papers Aria had made her retrieve and rushed out the door without brushing her hair.

At The Brew, Ezra was waiting impatiently, tapping his foot anxiously. There was a day's worth of stubble across his face he'd been too unmotivated to shave off, and a cup of cold coffee in his hand. All he could think about was Aria, how she had appeared to him last night, and how he had had the most pleasant dream after she'd told him to go back to sleep. He doubted Aria would only come visit him and not Spencer. But even if she didn't, he just needed to talk to someone who would understand what he was feeling.

As Spencer raced across the streets, she was met by a familiar presence. "Have you given it to him yet?" Aria asked while keeping up with Spencer's fast pace.

"No," Spencer huffed under her breath, then stormed into an alleyway and faced Aria, slightly irritated. "I can't talk to you right now, Aria, because no one else can see you! People will think I'm crazy, and it's bad enough I almost ended up in Radley again after you died."

Aria felt stung but knew what Spencer was saying. "Okay, fine, I'm sorry," she mumbled. "See you later." And like that, she disappeared into thin air.

Spencer's nose crinkled up and she crossed her arms at her chest. "I know you're still there, Aria. You explained the whole hiding thing to me yesterday."

Aria appeared at the corner leading back into civilization, her shoulder leaning into the wall and her arms crossed like Spencer's. "I'm leaving, aren't I?"

Sighing exaggeratingly, Spencer pushed passed Aria and through her other shoulder and back into the streets of Rosewood. When she turned around, Aria wasn't there, but for all Spencer knew, she could be following her.

Once Spencer entered The Brew, Ezra stood up so quickly he bashed his knee against the table. "Spencer," he greeted her and sat back down as she did. "Thanks for meeting me here."

"No problem," Spencer huffed, breathless from her fast walk. She gazed at his full cup of coffee and pointed at it. "Are you going to drink that?"

He shook his head and she took it, downing it, despite its coldness, gratefully. "This is about Aria, isn't it?" she said directly as she slammed down the emptied cup.

"S-she's back," he stuttered, still in disbelief, and leaning back into his chair. "I can't believe it."

"Me neither," Spencer mumbled, her eyes searching the room in case Aria was there making herself visible. "But she's here to help, so we might as well welcome her back with open arms."

Ezra shook his head. "I don't know how to feel," he explained. "At first, I didn't feel anything. But then I woke up from this wonderful dream, and I realized how ecstatic I was that she was back."

Aria, who'd been eavesdropping close by and staring at the ground, shot her head up. A wonderful dream? What had he dreamed about?"

"What was the dream about?" Spencer asked as though she had read Aria's mind.

The corner of Ezra's mouth turned up in a small, content smile. "This time where Aria and I had tried to make this new recipe. We didn't even end up with anything decent to eat because we'd burned it all. At one point we had one of those cliché cooking fights where we threw flour and eggs on each other. It was closer to when we'd first met and had recently started dating. We sat on the kitchen floor and she opened up to me, about her family and friends. It was the first time she told me about her friend Alison and how she had bullied her and all of you, how when Alison went missing Aria felt guilty for feeling relieved that she was gone." He sighed at the thought of the bittersweet memory. "Then she asked me if I had any ice cream. We split the carton and turned on a movie. Later, when everyone knew about our relationship, I bet they thought of the most scandalous things. But it was never like that. It was so simple, so…normal."

Aria watched, wide-eyed. That was the exact memory she'd thought of before leaving Ezra's apartment. The one she wished Ezra could remember so he could find a blissful sleep.

Spencer didn't say anything when Ezra was done telling the story. Instead, she pulled out the stack of papers and put them on the table. "She left this for you," she explained as Ezra stared at it. "It was supposed to be your Christmas present."

Ezra scooted the papers closer to him and flipped to the first page. There was a note. _Ezra, _it read. _I've shared my writing with you before, but nothing is more personal or emotional than this. I left my diary in the tampon box in the bathroom because I know you wouldn't touch that. It goes along with this story. To many, it is just fictional, a romance between two made-up characters. But it's inspired by something true. Merry Christmas, and to many more holidays to come. Love, Aria._

Ezra laughed at the humor—for he had truly loved Aria's humor—but couldn't stop reading that last line. _And to many more holidays to come. _It was like another slap in the face.

Aria felt the ironic slap, too, and began to wonder what those many other holidays would have been like.

Gulping back any tears, Ezra said in a strained voice while his finger skimmed over her written words, maybe even the last thing she'd ever written, "Do you think she's here right now?"

Spencer looked up and, eerily enough, stared at where Aria was standing. Of course, to Spencer, no one was there, but it was odd that she had looked there out of the entire place. "I don't know," she said honestly. "Maybe."

"Thank you, then," he said as his eyes reddened from unshed tears. Spencer glanced away from Ezra, finding it hard to see him so emotional after months of coping without Aria. "If she is here."

At her spot, Aria watched her two favorite people in the world support each other. It was a pleasant, yet heart-wrenching, sight. She wondered if Ezra knew she had written their love story, had poured out her thoughts and feelings during every moment of their relationship, good or bad, or if he had no clue what was inside those pages.

Either way, he would know how much he meant to her in the words she'd been unable to say. And Aria was able to make some peace with that.


	6. Sequel: Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter is Sparia-centric, but the next few will definitely have more Ezria.**

**In the Garden of Eden**

**Sequel: Chapter 5**

As she sat across from a sullen Ezra who kept running his finger over Aria's written note, Spencer was biting her fingernail viciously and tapping her foot rhythmically. She was debating whether to call Hanna and Emily and tell them what was going on. After all, Spencer had separated herself from them more than she had really meant to, and she regretted it. As much as it helped both her and Ezra to talk to each other, the love Ezra shared for Aria was different than the love Spencer shared. Sometimes he would sink into a numbing depression and Spencer would fear leaving him alone, and that didn't help at all with her own struggles. At least she, Hanna, and Emily were on the same stair. Ezra was on a completely different one, having fallen a flight after being in such bliss and happiness that had been torn down by fate.

Hesitantly Spencer pulled out her phone and checked her texts. There were no texts from Hanna or Emily, only a text from Toby asking how she was, and if Ezra was doing okay with the whole six-month thing. But instead of going to Emily or Hanna's contact information, Spencer opened up the texts she'd kept from Aria.

_We're here behind the trash cans _had been Aria's last text, a half hour before she'd been shot. Oh right, Spencer remembered. They met up in the alleyway and waited for Alison. Ezra and Aria had gotten there first.

Spencer scrolled up more and came across their last texting conversation. _Santa boxers or no? _Aria had asked, sending a picture of a pack of men's underwear with Santas printed all over.

_Would he even forgive you? _Spencer had jokingly replied, and Aria sent a winking emoji followed by, _Not if I show him off to the entire world…except to my dad._

A barista came up to their table and burst Spencer's reminiscing bubble. "May I get you a refill on your coffee?" she asked while pointing to the empty cup in front of Ezra, who had started reading the first page.

"Yes, please. Dark," Spencer answered, though she barely paid attention to the barista because she noticed Ezra's whitened, clenched fist. "Hey, is something wrong?" she asked him as the barista shuffled away. "I didn't think you'd be this tense."

"According to society, something was _always_ wrong," Ezra said cryptically, and his fingers skimmed the page's words. He didn't look Spencer in the eye, but Spencer could tell enough by his twitching eyebrow. "I don't know what they thought Aria and I were doing most of the time, but I know it's a lot more innocent than they believed. And right now I realized that Rosewood might remember her as the girl who slept around for good grades, or—"

"No one thinks that," Spencer interrupted him before he could finish his rant.

"But don't they, Spencer?" he snapped and almost ripped the first page out. "Wasn't she the slut of the school?"

Stung, Spencer sat back in her chair. "Maybe that's what some ignorant people thought and what a stupid teenage boy said," she murmured, "but after the pain of those rumors wore off, Aria couldn't have cared less as long as she had you, and me, her _family_."

Ezra just shook his head painfully and glanced back down at the page. "It was so normal," he whispered, having calmed down. "If we really were a mistake, then it's the best mistake I ever made."

And Spencer watched as the silent tears flowed down his cheeks and she felt the bitter sting of tears in her eyes, too. She had supported Aria so much, she never bothered to look at the side that didn't agree with her. Of the people who would spit on her in the street if it was still socially acceptable. Of the people who would burn her at the stake for "bewitching" an older man. Of all those narrow-minded assumers whose only purpose in life was to bring down people who didn't follow their rules and expectations. To Spencer it was okay because Aria was happy, and she was never pressured into anything she was uncomfortable with.

Then she remembered: once upon a time, for maybe a minute or less, she _was_ on that side. In retrospect, she was too busy being appalled by Aria's confession to think of the inappropriateness. But that viewpoint dissolved the more she talked with Aria about the secret she'd been hiding since Labor Day of their junior year.

Fluttering her eyelids (because she'd forgotten to blink), Spencer looked at Ezra with a fresh pair of eyes. This hurt, she confessed. Sitting here with him hurt more than she'd anticipated. Giving him Aria's present hurt more now than it had two minutes ago.

"Ezra," Spencer murmured, reaching out and grabbing his hand. She squeezed it in an effort to give him some of the strength she still had left that he had never been able to replenish. "Please don't dwell on what strangers thought of her. You loved her, I loved her, and that's all that matters, right? You know the clichés." Scooting her chair back and letting go of his hand, she shrugged on her light coat and stared at his sulking figure. "Promise me you'll take this home and remember the Aria _you_ knew." She stood up, awkwardly wondering how to walk away from this. She was jumpy now, wanting to go find Aria and build up the nerve to call Hanna and Emily. "Come on, let me drive you home. Keys?"

Spencer drove Ezra's car to the apartment complex and tried not to think too much about what might have happened in this car. At a red light she glanced down at the cup holders and saw a half-empty tube of lip gloss just sitting there, untouched, lonely. It was Berry Touch, Aria's favorite color.

The two passed the short ride in silence. Ezra gripped the packet of typed papers in his hands with pale knuckles as though the inky words were his life source. Spencer clenched her jaw as she turned the wheel and pressed the brake pedal. Then there was Aria, in ghostly, unseen form, sitting silently in the back, wondering if her best friends were able to sense her presence despite hiding from them.

Once Spencer parked in front of Ezra's place, she stepped out of the car and made sure Ezra got in okay. Aria hesitated outside, unsure what to do. Should she go with Ezra or follow Spencer? Would her attempts to comfort Ezra bring _any _comfort, or just more depression? After pacing for a couple more minutes, she chose to talk to Ezra first, then visit Spencer.

"Are you hungry?" Spencer asked Ezra as he collapsed on the bed, his eyes compelled to stare at the picture on the nightstand. He was still in disbelief that Aria was _here_, as in a ghost. If it wasn't for Spencer, Ezra would have woken up this morning and gone on with life with the belief that the Aria he saw last night was just a hallucination or a dream.

"No," he responded sullenly, his heart shriveling the longer he stared at the happy picture.

"Well," Spencer said, sighing, "I'll leave this pie out in case you are." Heading to the door, she turned around before exiting. "If I were you, I'd put that photo in a drawer for a while."

She stepped out of the apartment and was suddenly hit with something she should have said a long time ago. "And Ezra?" She peeped back in. "I'm sorry. For thinking the worst of you when you were really trying to help. I was too hateful towards you, and I never apologized. And even though you broke her heart for a while, I'm glad Aria knew you." And with that, she left.

As Spencer scurried out the apartment, Aria approached and pressed against a wall as if Spencer could bump into her. Once Spencer passed, Aria spent a minute clearing her mind before drifting into the wall and seeing Ezra moping lifelessly on the bed. Taking in a metaphorical breath, Aria willed herself to appear and stepped forward. "I didn't come back so you could fall into a depression," she spoke, and Ezra didn't even flinch.

Ezra glanced at her for a millisecond before flitting back to the picture, reaching out and turning it so she was able to see it. "Do you remember this day?"

Aria came forward and sat next to him, a tiny, pleasant smile on her face. "Of course," she replied. "It was a fun day. No matter how many people were staring at us, it felt like we were the only ones there."

As Aria studied the picture, joyous memories playing across her eyes, Ezra saw her hand propped on the mattress and extended his hand to hold it. His warm, fleshy fingers passed right through her, and Aria was snapped out of her bliss by the sensation. Uneasily she slipped her hand away and placed it on her lap.

"Why can't I touch you?" Ezra asked. Though he knew the answer, his heart still believed he could hold her again without the feeling of blood seeping between his fingers. Aria didn't answer.

"I have to go," she finally uttered after a long pause. Never would she have thought they'd run out of things to say, but now, she was able to believe that. This time, it was his turn not to answer. Aria came back hoping to patch things up, but so far with Ezra nothing seemed to be getting fixed.

It happened in half a second: Ezra blinked and she was gone. He longed to feel grateful for her being here, but a part of him was holding him back in a place of detachment. Picking up Aria's present, he opened it up to the page he'd left off on and continued to read rather than think.

…

Spencer was pacing back and forth in her bedroom when Aria appeared, sitting with her legs crossed on the bed. "Need to let off any steam?" she inquired as Spencer halted and sighed in relief.

"Thank God you're here," Spencer exclaimed. "I called Emily and Hanna half an hour ago. They'll be here any minute, and I want you here with me."

"_What_?" Aria cried, sinking away from Spencer. "Spence, I'm here for _you_, and Ezra, not them."

Boggled, Spencer stepped back. "What the hell, Aria? They're your friends too! Don't you realize how much they struggled after you died?"

Aria opened her mouth to support herself when the doorbell rang and Spencer sent her a desperate stare. "Please, _please_ let them see you. It'll help them, too. And it'll help me."

As Spencer snuck out of the room, Aria uneasily stood up and went towards the window. This wasn't part of her plan, she thought. Yes, she loved Emily and Hanna, and she acknowledged their battle to get past Aria's death, but they had done much better than Spencer or Ezra. Aria glanced at the picture on Spencer's desk, of the girls and their dates holding an extra corsage that would have been for Aria. Spencer was the only one with an obvious dead look in her eyes. The others seemed sad for their loss, but pleased that they were able to remember and know her.

At that moment, Spencer, Hanna, and Emily entered, and Aria blended into her surroundings like a chameleon. She studied Emily and Hanna up and down: Hanna had gained some weight and had dyed her hair a bit darker, while Emily was bulkier, probably from swimming and working out a lot more to release her pent-up stress and sadness. After Aria had passed, the three of them had had regular meetings to help each other through, though it was Spencer who broke off from the group to mope by herself. Unlike Hanna and Emily, she couldn't picture just letting Aria go, or how cardio and chamomile tea were going to help her.

"What's this about, Spence?" Hanna broke the awkward silence first while Spencer shut the door, her heart racing like it was being clunked by a boxer. Her eyes held a wild glint, and Emily raised her eyebrow in concern. However, Hanna just crossed her arms at her chest and appeared bored, like she just wanted to get this meeting over with.

"I…I have something to tell you guys," Spencer began, and nervously licked her chapped lips. "It's…" Her voice was ready to continue, but something halted her words in their tracks.

Emily pursed her lips and followed Hanna, tucking her arms at her chest. "It's what, Spencer?"

Sweating a bit at the brow, Spencer glanced around her room and swore under her breath. Aria wasn't there to Spencer. Meanwhile, Aria was still huddled in the corner, holding the breaths she didn't need to take, choosing to hide rather than reveal.

"It's about Aria," Spencer blurted, releasing a pent-up breath as soon as the confession had been made.

Curiously, Hanna cocked her head. "What about Aria?" she inquired calmly, though it was obvious a part of her was torn at the mention of their deceased friend. The same went for Emily.

"She's…back." Chewing her lip, Spencer chose her words carefully, though she still disliked her final decision. Emily's jaw was the first to drop, the revelation slapping her first.

"_What?_" Emily practically screamed, even louder than Aria's previous exclamation of the same word. She wanted to say more, but her lips get moving up and down, flopping like a fish out of water.

"Don't joke about that, Spence," Hanna muttered warningly, slightly frightening Spencer. Hanna obviously believed nothing Spencer was saying, and was probably going to send her to a mental ward now. Back to Radley she'd be, exactly where she thought she should be six months ago.

"I-I'm not, I swear!" Spencer put up her hands defensively and passively. "She's here right now."

Turning red and bothered, Aria bit her cheek and only stuffed herself farther into the corner. She hated how Spencer didn't follow her wishes. For the love of God, they didn't _need _her! She hadn't descended from paradise to say hi to every person whose lives she'd touched on the planet.

Nervously, Emily took a step back and said with a shaky voice, "Okay, Spence, this is getting a bit far, even for you…"

Bile rose in Spencer's throat at the fearful expressions on her remaining friends' pretty faces. "No, no, no, you have to believe me," she insisted. "She's _here._"

The corner of Hanna's mouth twitched and her glimmering blue eyes lost their spark, extinguished. "No, Spence," she uttered impeccably, now more sympathetic than scared. "She's…not."

Trembling, Spencer whirled around and slammed a fist on her desk angrily. "Damn it, Hanna, why can't you consider anything out of your scope?"

Stung and afraid again, Hanna stepped back, shoulder-to-shoulder to Emily now, and held her ground. "Because Aria died, remember? I was there—we all were! And you're expecting us to believe that she's back from the dead? News flash, Spencer: Aria wasn't the only friend of ours to die. Or did you forget Mona?"

Spencer's cheek jerked up, making her left eye squint, irritated that Hanna was bringing up Mona when Aria was obviously more important. "And?" she sputtered instead. "I didn't forget."

"_And_," Hanna continued, "Mona never came back as a ghost. And she's the exact kind of person to do that. Face it, Spencer. We need to move on. I had to. Otherwise I'd be dead with her from a heart attack at five hundred pounds."

Blinking shockingly, Spencer only stood in front of her desk, motionless, her white-as-a-sheet fisted fingers propped on the desk. "Hanna…stop," she whispered in warning.

"What? I'm just trying to be honest. And I'm not going to spend my life being hung up about people who are gone," Hanna rambled, receiving a cautioning tug on the arm from Emily. "_What_?" she hissed, and Emily whispered in her ear, "Don't push her, Han."

Eventually, after a moment of silence passed as Spencer was sullenly reminded that Aria was a ghost, she spoke. "I can prove it to you." With that, Spencer turned around and studied her room, pondering where Aria could be.

"She's crazy!" Hanna murmured under her breath so only Emily could hear. Emily smacked her arm in punishment. "_She _is our friend, and she obviously needs more help than we'd originally realized."

They stood there silently for a couple of seconds and noticed that Spencer was too absorbed in whatever she was doing to hear them, so Hanna replied, "She left our therapy groups, Em. We kept her by our side for months. She decided to break off from us, and so that's her choice. I'm done trying to help her."

A heartstring tugged in Emily's chest, but she had to admit Hanna had a point. Spencer had been the hardest to console, and it was her decision to stop seeking help. If Spencer didn't want to help herself or her friends, then that was her problem.

"Come on, Aria," Spencer said, padding over to the window and pulling aside the curtains. "Please come out."

Nothing. Emily and Hanna watched patiently.

"Come on," Spencer reiterated under her breath, the blood in her veins pounding harder and harder against her skin as her heartbeat began racing again.

After a minute of waiting, Emily finally stepped forward and said, "Come on, Spence. Let's go get a coffee."

"No!" yelled Spencer, and her eyes resumed to scan the room in some hope of recognition. But Aria kept hidden.

"Come on, come on, come _on_!" Spencer's voice rose higher and higher until Hanna and Emily shared a glance that both said maybe their friend needed some professional attention. "I know you're in here, Aria," she spoke loudly. "So please come out!"

Silence. Quickly Spencer was losing her patience, and Hanna and Emily were noticing and trying to get her to leave the bedroom. Eventually Spencer gave up the battle and let her friends take her to The Brew again to pick up some decaf. Shaking her head in disappointment, the last thing she said before leaving the supposedly empty room was "I truly believed you were my best friend."

The nonexistent heart in Aria's nonexistent chest collapsed. The tears that weren't really there flowed down her cheeks from regret. And though her body was in the ground in the Rosewood cemetery, she was still able to feel the sting.

…

The blinking cursor in the Google search bar patiently waited for Ezra to type something. He'd been sitting at his desk for ten minutes thinking of the right way to search Aria's abilities. _Ghosts?_ he thought of researching. But that would be too broad. So he settled on _how souls are able to come back for unfinished business_.

Regardless, it was the same thing as ghosts, but at least Ezra didn't get the haunted house stories.

He came upon a whole article about how souls might be made of energy, proving that reincarnation might exist. _Energy can neither be destroyed nor created._ Now was not a time for a science lesson. The website had led him nowhere, and it was the first one listed.

But then, while scrolling down through the comments, user JimmyJ193 caught his attention. _Maybe souls have a choice whether they want to go to a new life or stay behind, and that's why there are ghosts. Maybe people believe there's a heaven because that's where they go first before being born again. Maybe the beliefs of heaven and reincarnation in the afterlife both exist._

Ezra's blood ran cold. A heaven. That beach he'd been on with Aria, was that considered a heaven? He hadn't even asked her where she came from. Maybe JimmyJ193 _was _right. It seemed like a viable option.

He was never a religious man, never baptized or raised on a certain religion. He knew that Aria's family had celebrated every religion, from Judaism to Buddhism to Christianity; Aria and her quirky family loved living by different cultures, even if Mike complained (which he did). He'd never truly believed in a heaven, or a hell, or reincarnation, or any kind of afterlife. He just didn't think about it, probably because he was afraid to think that an afterlife meant immortality, and immortality could mean many things: being forever alone or forever waiting for that special someone to join you, or never being able to find that special someone you spent your life with because the afterlife was just as cruel as the living. Yes, he'd pictured afterlife paradises with Aria, clinking glasses on some warm, salty-smelling beach somewhere. But it was always just his fantasy, not his belief.

Thinking of Aria now, it made him realize that it didn't matter what religion you practiced. She was a good person who had a few slip-ups like all good people and ended up in a good place after she was dead. And maybe no one went to hell. Maybe the reason there were bad people on the earth—people like A—was because those bad people who died were reincarnated too.

It made him wonder where his soul had come from. Mark Twain (ideally)? Maybe even some Russian exiled in Serbia, or a farming man in China? And Aria's soul—he could see her as Cleopatra, or Charlotte Brontë, or Audrey Hepburn. The thought made his brain thud against his skull, and the questions started rolling through his brain.

He turned around in his chair, wanting to ask Aria now if she had the choice to go somewhere new, live as a new person with her old life swept away, and if she decided to stay as a spirit for a little while first. His heart cracked into tiny pieces, the realization dawning on him: after this was all over, he'd never see her again. She'd be a stranger in the park, that little girl or boy swinging on the swings.

But she wasn't there. Maybe she'd left, he thought sullenly, the hope dying in his chest. Maye she'd finally decided to relive and forget them all.

…

When Spencer returned home later, she might as well have had snakes coming out of her head and red, burning eyes of fury. "I can't believe you did that!" she yelled, plopping on her bed because she didn't know what to do with her boiling anger.

Just like that Aria appeared and stepped into Spencer's view. "I already explained to you why I wasn't coming out."

Spencer resisted the urge to have another tantrum and instead gritted her teeth. "Hanna and Emily think I'm unstable now," she explained more calmly than she'd expected. "I got a call from Toby on my way home asking if I was okay and that he'd heard from them."

"I'm sorry, Spencer," Aria apologized honestly. "But now you see that they were doing fine. I don't need to interfere in their lives."

"I-I know," Spencer croaked, her throat clenching. She wiped an unwanted tear from her cheek. "But it just felt so great having you back, you know? It made me think that we could _all _be reunited."

Aria's shoulders sagged and she sat next to Spencer. "I wish that were true. But come on." She reached out and put her hand over Spencer's, though neither could feel it. "You know that isn't true."

Sniffling, Spencer stared down at her lap and whispered, "I just keeping thinking how much you're going to miss." She choked a bit on a sob, wiping her nose. "You'll never graduate high school, or college, or get married, or have kids, or decide not to get married or have kids… Nothing. You didn't even get to go to prom." Breaking down crying, she sobbed, "And it was so much fun, too."

As she watched Spencer crumble, Aria wished she could pull her friend into a warm embrace. In an attempt to do just that, she wrapped her ghostly arms around Spencer's shoulders, thinking of warmth and comfort. "D-do," Spencer stammered almost incoherently, " you ever t-think about what c-could have been?" Then she added, "Y-you'll never be my bridesmaid or my children's g-godmother."

Having given up again on trying to feel real, Aria leaned away. "Hanna and Emily are perfect for both of those things," she reassured Spencer.

"But they're not _you,_" Spencer pointed out, slightly embarrassed by her outbursts. "What about our future together, Aria? We'll never go through college, marriage…_anything_ together. It started with Alison and ended with A and that was it. And you deserved so much better."

Aria scooted closer to Spencer and smiled. "If I ever have a problem with school or Ezra, you're always the first person I call." Robotically, Spencer nodded her head. Aria could tell she was emotionally drained. "And yes…I do think about what if. I keep thinking about how I'm going to see everyone—you, Hanna, Emily, Ezra—grow up, get married, maybe even have kids… Plans I had for myself, but now I'll only dream of."

Spencer sniffled and blew her nose into a tissue before dabbing her eyes. "I don't know about Ezra doing any of those things now. But Toby and I... We've talked about it." For the first time in ten minutes, she looked at Aria with her bloodshot, puppy-brown eyes. "And you?"

Aria shrugged. "A little bit. More about college and living together after high school... But I always saw it ending with marriage and kids."

A small smile crossed Spencer's lips. "How many?"

Rolling her eyes, Aria gave an "are you serious?" look. "If you think I'm going to say ten, you're sadly mistaken. Two. A boy and a girl." She smirked. "And you?"

"The same," Spencer responded, followed by a laugh. "I can't believe we're talking about this stuff. It seems kind of childish, doesn't it?"

"We did talk a lot about names we liked in seventh grade. Remember that?"

"How could I forget? It started with James and Jane and ended with us creating the most absurd names."

"Oh, yes." Aria gave a melancholic sigh. "And then we tried to combine all of our names."

"And we couldn't fit Ali into it, so it just became Ali-Spariannily."

"Always in the front, always the center of attention," Aria commented. "Seventh grade. We were so innocent."

"Little did we know what would lie ahead."

"Dating teachers, sleeping with accused As, almost being sent to jail multiple times, having to put up with Ali's crap," Aria listed off on her fingers. "I think we had the most unique high school experience in the history of mankind." She paused. "But it made us stronger."

"Not strong enough," Spencer whispered, barely audible. Then something dawned on her and she turned to Aria. "Daisy or Charlotte?"

Confused, Aria cocked her head. "What?"

"You never got to decide which name you liked better. So which one would it be?"

"Hm…" Aria propped her chin in her hand, thinking deeply. "Both. First name and middle name."

Something inside Spencer cracked and flooded over her. For the longest time she'd believed Aria would never get to answer anything, leaving everything unanswered. "I might never see you again," she voiced her thoughts out loud, off-topic. "I wish I could hug you right now."

Again, Aria wrapped her arms around Spencer, whispering, "I can only try." And a miracle happened.

Spencer felt it around her shoulders and back: a warm, toasty sensation you feel when you're in contact with someone. A radiation of heat. Astounded, Spencer reached up and hovered her hand over Aria's at her collarbone, wishing to hold her tighter.

They stayed like that for a few minutes until Spencer decided to stay at Toby's for the night. She didn't tell Aria, but her ghostly presence and their conversation made her want to appreciate those who were still alive. But on her way there, she stopped at Ezra's. "I thought you would want some company, especially after earlier," she explained as she set a chocolate cake on the counter.

For half an hour they chatted about random things, little things, avoiding the topic of Aria. She left 3B feeling light, renewed, like a future without Aria, and with friends like Hanna, Emily, Toby, and Ezra, actually existed.


	7. Sequel: Chapter 6

**In the Garden of Eden**

**Chapter 6**

As Spencer exited Ezra's apartment complex with a content look on her face, she saw a glowing figure on the street with a red wound on her chest. Startled at first, she recognized it was Aria and raised a hand to wave to her, in which Aria simply grinned and waved back.

Rustling in her purse for her phone, Spencer held up one finger indicating Aria to wait and they'd talk in a second. Once she found the iPhone, she opened her mouth, prepared to speak, and glanced up, only to shut her lips. Where Aria was standing on the sidewalk there was no one. And as Spencer unlocked her car and dialed a number on her phone, it washed over her that that was probably the last time she'd ever see her. "Hey, Han," she said into the receiver while turning the keys and driving out of the parking space. "About this weekend… Do you and Em have plans?"

Mission one accomplished, Aria thought as she saw Spencer drive away. And though she know she couldn't see her, she held up one hand in salute, watching her best friend, finally having found some peace and strength to move forward, until her speck in the distance became nothing.

…

It was two o' clock in the morning when Aria appeared in 3B to see Ezra. He was slumped in his desk chair, picking at his stubbly beard and staring deeply, thoughtfully, out the balcony window. "I'm sorry I disappeared before," Aria spoke softly while walking closer to him. He swiveled around in his chair, his previously tense shoulders sagging.

"I…I don't really know what to say," he admitted. "I thought that if I could have seen you again…"

"…You would have had so much to say," Aria finished for him. "I know," she whispered. "But that's okay if you don't. It'll make it easier for both of us."

Ezra, whose head had been on his chest as he nervously played with the corner of the rug with his foot, tilted his head up slowly, as though something was dawning on him. "That's right," he murmured. "Because you're going to leave again."

"Because I'm not meant to stay," she corrected him, sitting down on the couch. "Erase all those thoughts that I might stay just because I'm here now. I need you to realize that I'm not here forever, I'm here to see you and Spencer…and leave. For whatever's next for me."

Ezra sighed and spun around in his chair, away from Aria. "You know, for most people your age the next step is college, not guardian angel," he threw at her bitterly, opening his laptop.

"I know you're frustrated right now," she confessed, "but I need you to be honest with me. Do you feel like you could move on without me if I left right now?"

"No," he scoffed painfully, turning around again with a website pulled up on the screen. "But I don't want to talk about that. I actually _do_ have some questions for you."

Uncomfortable, Aria shifted in her seat and crossed her leg over the other. She really should ask him about why he thought he couldn't move on and what would make it better, but she appeased him. "Go ahead," she said calmly, understanding that Ezra needed to go off the edge in order to crash and burn this side of him, the emotions that had built up in her questionable return.

"What's your little paradise like? Did you get to choose to come here, or did you have no choice?"

"Well…" Aria pondered. "See, it's strange… Because when I came here, I forgot a lot about what it's like out there. But if I remember correctly, I chose to came here. To see you and Spencer."

"Did you have any other choice than to come here?"

Silence. Then it was broken. "Yes. I could have stayed there or moved on."

"Moved on…?"

"As in become someone new."

"As in not Aria, but some stranger?"

"Yes, as in not Aria, but some stranger."

Ezra sat back, unable to handle this information—or that JimmyJ193 had been correct. "Will you remember who you were when you become this new…person?"

If Aria was alive, she would have taken a deep breath, but her chest didn't move, just like how her veins didn't pulse. She licked her lips and looked sadly into his eyes. "No... That's not how it works."

"Then how does it work?"

"I can't tell you. No one really knows, not even the dead."

The two lapsed into a silence that lasted long enough for Ezra to pick up on the ticking of the wall clock. The next question he asked, he skimmed his finger over the typed lines of the Christmas present, refusing to look into her, well, dead eyes. "And when you were making that decision… Did you consider not coming back here?"

"Of course," Aria responded honestly. "We already said goodbye, but that was before I noticed how terribly you, and Spencer, were still handling this. Paradise is great, but it's not for forever. Moving on is something everyone does, even those that are gone. Decisions never end."

Sighing deeply, Ezra could feel the involuntary anger burble into his throat. "And you're one-hundred-percent fine with leaving us here, not ever seeing us again?"

Aria shrugged her shoulders. As a ghost, it was harder to have feelings, but she still had them. However, it was easier to control them, and now was a time to contain them. "I'm sorry, Ezra. I couldn't see myself sitting around all day just watching you, and everyone. If I stay…I'll only see everyone move on. And there comes a point where that will hurt me…and by then, I might not have the chance to leave."

Biting his lip, Ezra clenched his hands on the arm chairs. "You…," he began, but his voice cracked. "You were all I had." He shook his shook and shut his eyes, leaning against his hand. "All I had…" Aria watched as he massaged between his eyebrows. "I'm selfish and…I want you to stay. Stay until I can't even see you anymore."

Confused, Aria blinked and sat up straight. "What?"

"I mean," he attempted to explain, "stay here, on Earth…and stay with me until I no longer miss you, no longer see you. That way I know I'd moved on…and I'll be better."

Aria raised her eyebrows. "You want me to stay…to watch you forget me?"

When Aria said it out loud, it made Ezra's mouth twinge; that made him sound disgusting, desperate, and possessive. "Well…yeah," he blurted out despite his contrary thoughts.

"Huh," Aria huffed, her mouth dropped open and ghostly tears streaming down her face. She stood up and crossed her arms at her chest. "Wow…" And she headed towards the door despite not needing it to exit.

"Aria, wait!" Ezra called out, and by some miracle she stopped. "Let me explain."

"No, I don't need you to explain," she spat. "You have the nerve to tell me I'm all you have, and you expect me to see you _forget_ me? I love you, Ezra, and I'll always love you, but I don't love you enough for that! " She wanted to add, "And I don't hate myself enough to do that, too!" but she bit the inside of her cheek as those words flew out of her mouth, putting a hand over her lips as they began to wobble. She believed her love for Ezra was unconditional, and she had died thinking that… But now, after this, she realized that maybe…it wasn't.

Unfortunately, Ezra believed the same thing. It was stupid of him to make that request, he knew it… And he wanted to be angry, too, but he understood exactly where she was coming from: love had limits. Some things were worth sacrificing for love, and others weren't; it was a common _Jane Eyre _dilemma. He just never imagined him and Aria having limits. But then again, they'd only known each other for less than two years; they'd still had a ways to go.

He should have told Aria these things, but instead his mouth had a completely different brain. "You're not real," he retorted thoughtlessly. The boundary was broken and there was no going back.

Aria stared at him with wide, helpless eyes. "…What?"

Biting his bottom lip, he glared at her and yelled, "You're not real!" With that, some dam in Ezra broke, a dam he hadn't even realized was building up and ready to break until it was shaken. He came charging towards her so that they were face-to-face. "You're just a figment, a copy of the real thing! You expect me to get help from you, well… You're just a bother, an imaginary person sent here to torture me." He backed off a bit; Aria's lips were pulled into her mouth to prevent her sobs. "I don't want you. Why would I ever want you when I could have the real Aria? The warm, loving, _living_…Aria."

Ezra didn't get to say much as the ghost disappeared, a single sob echoing in the apartment as he finished his uncontrollable rant. Why had he said those things, he thought, when he knew that he was in the wrong and should apologize? Aria standing her ground and saying no shouldn't have angered him…because he respected her.

But obviously, now, he didn't. Or at least a part of him, the Mr. Hyde part, didn't. It wasn't until the nasty exchange had occurred that Dr. Jekyll returned.

Collapsing onto the couch, Ezra stared at the ceiling and didn't notice he was crying until a cold tear touched his earlobe. Brushing them away, he got up and rubbed his eyes with his hands, wanting so terribly for her to come back or to rewind time or _something._

When he allowed the gift of eyesight to be used again, he saw something shimmer on the ground. Curious, he bent down and analyzed it, recognizing its watery form.

A tear.

Reaching out, he poked it and tentatively touched his tongue to it to determine its saltiness. It was a real tear—but from who? There was no possible way that it was his because he hadn't cried until a moment ago, on the couch…

Then it dawned on him and he wanted to slap himself across the face again. Aria—she'd been crying. And somehow, despite her lifeless form, she'd been able to create something real.

But how—and why?

…

Usually when Aria had no place to go, she'd go to Ezra's. But since Ezra was who she was escaping, and she'd parted from Spencer, there was only one more place to go: home.

Stepping inside, she found it impeccably quiet, which was not the typical case. "Mom? Dad?" she called out, wanting and wishing so badly for them to see her. "Mike?"

There was no answer; she was alone. Alone like she'd been for the past six months on a beach leading to nowhere; alone like she'd always be until her soul's forgotten.

"I shouldn't have come," she spoke aloud to the walls of her living room. Her tears dotted the floor one by one, but Aria didn't notice. "I came back to where I felt safe, and now…I have nowhere."

Scanning the room, her eyes fell upon a table shoved against the wall, an unlit candle standing in the center. Surrounding it were pictures of her, a timeline of her life from baby to teenager. She reached out, wanting to touch the one empty frame meant to be her graduation picture. More tears were left on the mahogany; she could remember her mom buying that frame and telling her that. "For my graduate," she'd proclaimed as she'd placed it on the table. A forever empty frame.

With a wobbly breath that had no purpose because being oxygen deprived was no problem, Aria waved her hand over the candle and lit it. Closing her eyes, she prayed to rest in peace.

After a minute of mumbling prayers and being unable to control more cries, Aria floated upstairs and walked down the hallway, appreciating the pictures on the walls, the laundry basket at the end. She finally reached her room and peered inside—exactly the same as she'd remembered it. The clothes in her closet were untouched as were the stack of books she'd tripped over the day she got the text to go to the alleyway. If she'd stayed back to pick them up—could she have avoided being A's target? Would Ali have been the target instead? The rest of her days spent as Aria Montgomery before moving on to the next would be filled with "what ifs"—and she refused to consider a single one of them, wanting to move on and forward and fresh.

Passing through her room one more time, her transparent fingers trailed over the picture frames of her, Ezra, her friends, and family, as though each supernatural touch was a thank you as much as it was a goodbye.

She'd never see her room again.

When she came across the last frame, which was of her and Ezra on their fun day outdoors together, she gasped as she knocked it over. Alarmed, Aria bent down instinctually and picked it up, placing it back on her nightstand—and realizing she had touched something. Wide-eyed and confused, she stepped out of her room and noticed she went right through the door… So how was she able to touch it if no part of her was solid?

Sneaking in to the bathroom, Aria reached for the door…and shut it with a simple push of her ethereal fingers.

Surprised, Aria wondered what else she could do. She went to turn on the faucet—and accomplished that. She decided she felt like a bath—and was able to draw the tub full of warm water.

And even more amazingly, when she crouched on her knees at the edge of the tub and stretched out her fingers to the steamy, watery surface…she was able to feel that, too.

Undressing herself and draping her phantom clothes on the closed toilet seat, she dipped one toe into the bath and then the other. The sensation of the water was the only thing she was able to feel; she couldn't feel the porcelain of the tub cradle her body. She sat stiffly, uncomfortably, for she was not used to feeling anything physical for a very long time. Then she looked down and studied the bullet wound on her chest, a small puncture that refused to bleed; and the B26 tattoo on her ribcage that was still there and not broken down with the worms.

Eventually she found herself able to lean back into the tub so the water came up to her neck; she dipped her head under and learned she could stay under as long as she wanted because breath was unneeded. Coming back up, she saw her hair was still dry, but the water still lapped around her, like her skin was the only thing that existed at the moment. She spent the rest of the afternoon in awe at her new connection to being a living human again, trying to get the water to stay in her hand but never able to relive that.

Some part of humanity had returned in the gift of touch.

By five o'clock she was out of the tub, back in her clothes without a towel to dry her off—not that she needed to be dried off. Returning to the steps, she was about to drift down them and out the front door when she gasped.

Mike's eyes were saucer-sized and his mouth gaped open like its hinges had broken as he stared up at Aria. "Aria?" he exclaimed, starting to climb up towards her.

But in an instant, Aria was turning around and disappearing. "Aria?" Mike said frantically again, and kept repeating it as he searched upstairs, then downstairs.

She watched as he returned to the front door, defeated, probably assuming he had just seen things. She watched as he filled a glass with water and sat at the table. She watched as he stared at the glass and began to cry. She watched him do all this and she never came out to comfort the brother who needed it more than anything at that moment.

And she watched, on the sidelines, as he collapsed into his own arms for comfort, not aware that he wasn't alone.


	8. Sequel: Chapter 7

**In the Garden of Eden**

**Sequel: Chapter 7**

It was only after Aria was gone for about an hour that Ezra jumped out of his chair and pounded his head with his hands. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered, and shut his eyes to block out the light that was making his headache a million times worse. He needed her to come back; he needed to make this right, before she disappeared forever. And he also needed to know what was happening to her, why she was crying _real _tears.

"Aria!" he called out, staring around the apartment for some signal that she might be there. "_Aria_!"

For five straight minutes he yelled and yelled, until his voice had dropped in volume to a whisper, and he'd collapsed on the couch and cried her name more so in misery and pain than in calling her back. Eventually he regained his composure and sat up, staring at the empty chair in front of him. An idea came to his head, and he got the _To Kill a Mockingbird _book from his nightstand, sat back down, and stared at the empty spot where no person sat.

"Aria," he began, and stopped for a moment to recognize how weird it was that he was talking to nothing. "You gave me this book the day I left Rosewood High. Well, it was a gift from the class, but you picked it out, left a message on the back of the front cover and everything… Anyway, it replaced my old, battered copy, the one I'd read at least a hundred times, which was strange for me because I thought I'd use it up until it fell apart and the pages yellowed. But for some reason, I cherished this one so much more." Opening it, his fingers touched the words she'd written in pen. "I don't know if you saw the irony in my leaving that day, but we both quoted Joseph Campbell unknowingly. You wrote, 'Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.' You then went on to say to that being with me in this little apartment brought you joy, and I helped you hurt less when it came to keeping your dad's secret and Jenna…"

Sighing, he paused and reread the words, then set the book aside and picked up her Christmas present from the coffee table next to the chess board they'd only attempted to play on in the past. "Now, you quoted Joseph Campbell again, turned it into an epigraph, getting that irony again… 'I don't believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.' And that was so us, Aria. We used to question destiny and theory so much, until we found a way to put that aside and just live together. You and me…"

When Ezra glanced up at the chair again, he didn't flinch when he saw Aria sitting there, leaning forward in concentration while tears dripped onto the floor. Somewhere along the line, she'd shown up and lost her composure, and Ezra wondered how long she'd been listening for, but wasn't finished just yet. "When you came back, it reminded me of what we had, what we could have been, what we would have done to enjoy being alive rather than be like most writers and artists who spent frustrated lifetimes searching for the meaning of life. That scared me, hurt me… And then I read this, and it took me a while to process it, but I understand now. When you returned, I spent so much time questioning why and how and the meaning of life, that I forgot that I should just bask in the ignorance and enjoy you right now. I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I was just frustrated, reminded of the plans we had… Truth is, I don't want you to leave, but I know I have to get over that because I love you and I don't want to hold you back if you want to move on to the next phase of what you're meant to be. You're bound to make any child the happiest, brightest, most thoughtful child in the world. And I hope those parents realize the blessing they're given to have your amazing soul." He drifted off, and a weight lifted off his chest and dissipated into the air. Now Aria was sobbing, attempting to put herself back together again. In that moment, he decided he didn't care how she was able to cry real tears. She was here now.

Standing up, Ezra crouched next to her and, with shaking hands, wiped away her tears with his thumbs. To his surprise and amazement, he held her face in his hands, warm and wet and solid—like she was alive. The moment brought Ezra to tears as well, and he had to bend his head and console himself in silence as his emotions overwhelmed him again.

But then Aria stood up and he could feel her hands catch his and pull him up to his feet, then lift his head up. Eyes glistening and keeping her gaze on him, Aria held his hand. "There's another quote," she croaked, "by Joseph Campbell that says, 'It is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there lies your treasure.'" Sniffling, she leaned her head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her with no hesitation. "It's too late for me… I stumbled and fell into a hole. Meanwhile, you've stumbled, but you've stayed on the ground." She nudged her head deeper into his shoulder. "Which means you still have yet to find your treasure."

For a few moments they stayed in that position, in each other's arms, until Aria pulled away with curiosity glimmering green in her hazel eyes. "Can I try something?" she asked, her thumb grazing the back of Ezra's palm.

"Sure," Ezra said, ignorant to her thoughts. But when he saw her stand up on her tiptoes and lean her head closer, he knew exactly what she wanted to do.

Their lips pressed together, and it felt just like their kisses six months prior. Her warm, soft lips lingered on his, and she closed her eyes and thought—and the rest came easily to her.

_The year was 2015, and Ezra sat on a subway seat reading _King Lear _and marking notes to talk over in his next class of surprisingly thoughtful students who didn't just take the class to up their GPA. In the other hand he finished up an apple, throwing it into the trash can a few seats down from him. _

_Meanwhile, a woman, the only other person in the car, glanced up from her reading and saw the handsome teacher jotting down in the book. "Didn't your parents ever teach you to not write in a book?" she said, catching his attention._

_Ezra looked up and his cheeks reddened from her beauty. "Oh, well, this is my teacher's copy, so I'm just making note of ideas and themes to discuss." The beautiful woman nodded her head, a smirk on her face. "I teach high school," he elaborated, and she asked him what he was reading._

_"_King Lear_," he replied and flashed her the cover._

_"__I read that in twelfth grade," she conversed. "That was three years ago, but I think I remember some guy getting his eyes gouged out."_

_So she was twenty-one, Ezra thought. Maybe too young for him. "Yeah, that happened. The most gruesome plot in Shakespeare history since _Titus Andronicus_." _

_Though she was across the aisle from him, she scooted a few seats closer to where he was sitting. "I love Shakespeare, but _King Lear _was such a bore." She then reached out her hand to shake his. "Aria."_

_Without reluctance, he shook her hand, a half-smile twitching onto his face. He liked this girl. "Ezra."_

_"__As in from the bible?"_

_"__As in a solo in an opera?" he threw back at her._

_She huffed and her nose wrinkled up. "Mmm, for me it means 'lioness.'" The subway stopped and she stood up, slipping her own book into her purse. "Watch out for my bite next time you make a comment like that."_

_Taken aback, Ezra watched as she sauntered out, then realized he wanted—no, needed—her number, the number of the mysterious, bold girl. "Wait up!" he called, jumping out of his seat and sprinting out of the subway car. When he caught up to her, he panted, "My name means 'help,' so it would be a huge help to me if you gave me your number."_

_Smirking and shaking her head in disapproval of his pun, she ripped off some paper from a notebook in her bag and scribbled it down. "So, what do you teach?"_

The vision faded and Aria pulled her lips away. Ezra kept his eyes closed for a few more seconds as he watched the image turn black. "What was that?" he asked, breathless.

"A gift from me to you," she said. "It's a new memory—a better one, may I say, than making out on a public bathroom counter. It's what would have happened if we hadn't met when I was sixteen."

A part of Ezra was bothered that she'd still be alive if he met her when she was older, but he shook it off, done with questioning everything that came to his mind.

"Now can you do a favor for me?" she asked, blinking her eyes flirtatiously. It made Ezra smile like the old times. "What?"

"Can you read to me one last time?" With that, she held up _To Kill a Mockingbird _between them. "_Please_?"

A real memory lit up in Ezra's head: _"Just one more chapter, Ezra, please?" She would cling to his arm and stare up at him with her puppy-dog eyes, lips pouting, as he protested that it was almost midnight and they both had school the next day. How she managed to escape her room without her parents knowing always wowed him. "Pleeease? Then we'll go to sleep, I promise."_

Ezra took the book from her hands and grinned, gesturing to the couch. She didn't need to beg anymore. "As you wish."

He sat on the couch and she followed suit, propping her legs up on his knees and scooting into his shoulder so she could read over it in case his voice bored her, which was a rare occasion since he did such great impressions.

Clearing his throat, he wiggled in his spot a little bit until he was comfortable and relaxed, warmed by the figure next to him. "Chapter twelve," he began, and Aria clung to him, excitement rushing through her nonexistent veins. "Jem was twelve—"

"I like the name Jem," Aria chimed in. "Well, Jeremy."

Ezra turned to her, eyebrow raised. "I've only said three words and already you're interrupting me."

She smiled, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Just like old times."

Grinning in return, Ezra put one hand on her knee and gently grazed it. "Yeah. Just like old times." Ezra knew about her love for the name Jeremy, and he thought it was a good name, too; next to Ezra Junior, of course. But if he ever did have any kids, he wasn't sure if he'd advocate it, because a part of his love for it came from Aria. "Anyway, let's continue. Jem was twelve. He was difficult to live with, inconsistent and moody…"

Eventually time peeled away, and Ezra fell asleep—like he usually did unless Aria spoke up loudly about it. Setting the book aside, Aria laid her head on his shoulder and sat for a few minutes in complete, utter peace. She interlocked her fingers with his; and, because he was sleeping, she could feel for just a moment what it must have been like for him to hold her limp, cold hand. Rubbing her nose against his cheek, she kissed him on the corner of his lips…

And like that, she was gone.

The next morning Ezra woke up splayed out on the couch, saw the book on the coffee table, but didn't see Aria. Was it a dream? He was certain it wasn't. But how about him and Aria going to a concert featuring The Fray and dancing to "Happiness"? Was that a dream, too? Now that, he wasn't so sure.

As he blinked the light from his sensitive eyes, he glanced across the room and saw a piece of paper stuck in the typewriter. Getting up, he slowly walked towards it and picked it up, though his brain was still processing what was reality and what was fantasy.

_Go on an adventure, find your treasure. Love always, Aria._

He held the paper so tightly, it left creases on the sides. However, instead of feeling emotions of anger or sadness, he set it on top of her manuscript and strode to the balcony, opening it for the first time in forever—and he decided to eat outside and feel the sun warm his face.

…

"We both knew it was going to end like this, right?"

A week after Aria left, Ezra was starting to pack up his desk—and 3B in general. "Don't you have your own packing to do?" Ezra asked Spencer in a strained voice as he moved the filled-to-the-brim box to the ground, with no help from Spencer. He was referring to her commitment to attend UPenn in the fall.

"Yeah, but I've got most of it packed already. Just have some last minute stuff to look through."

"Like what?" He folded the chess board and stuffed its pieces into a plastic bag.

"Oh, just…pictures, journals, memories. The harder stuff that reminds you you're not a kid anymore and high school is over and college is just the beginning."

She sat down on his couch and studied the bookshelf she'd looked over multiple times. When she saw the picture frame, she got up again and went to pick it up. "This is a nice picture of her," she commented while smiling. "I mean, I've got some great pictures too, but here… She looks really happy."

"Keep it," Ezra said, surprising Spencer.

"_What_?"

"You heard me. I can print off another copy anyway; I have plenty more where that came from."

Spencer traced the wooden side and grinned, then held it to her chest. "Thank you." She then showed him the picture one last time. "Except I might cut you out."

Ezra laughed, the first genuine laugh in a long time. "Go ahead." While he was cleaning out the last drawer of his desk, Spencer slipped the frame into her purse and straightened up. "Well, I better get going," she said while stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Have fun in New York City."

Before she could exit through the front door of 3B for the last time, Ezra stopped her. "Wait, Spencer." She turned around. He stood up from where he was crouched and saluted her. "Keep in touch, okay?"

She saluted back and held back a laugh at how stupid they must look. "Of course. Bye." And like that, the other people of Ezra's past life, the ones that connected him to Aria, were gone, too.

A couple days ago he visited Aria's family to see how they were doing, and comforted Mike as he was extremely upset for some reason. He gave Mike the exact same advice Aria gave him, and then challenged him to a game of Mario Kart. Byron and Ella then invited him to stay for dinner, and they had a pleasant meal before Ezra announced his very sudden move to New York, and that it might be the last time he'd see them for a while.

Mike was devastated, though he didn't admit it verbally; Ezra could see it in his eyes. To lose a sister and then her boyfriend, the older guy he'd become close to and taught how to play video games, the man who was like an older brother to him, was hard to handle. But Ezra knew Mike was tough enough to pull through, just like Aria would have been.

It didn't take Ezra that long to pack up all of 3B; it was about two weeks at the most. All of the furniture had been moved to the truck waiting outside except for his desk, which still had one thing on it that he'd refused to touch since three weeks ago. Picking it up, it was Aria's gift and note, along with their only photo album together. The stuff was too personal to leave to the movers, so he was sealing it up in a plastic folder and bag and putting it in the passenger's seat.

The drive was approximately two, three hours, but Ezra felt like he was driving at the speed of light. Because the closer he got to New York, the closer he got to his next adventure and finding his treasure.

And the closer he got to fulfilling Aria's wish, a wish that had become a part of him because it meant something to her.


	9. Sequel: Epilogue

**This story is dedicated to Sophie, or ezraschickpeas on Tumblr and prettylittletaylorswift on this site, because of her dedication to this story and to my others. You've expressed how much this story means to you, so now it's for you. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>In the Garden of Eden<strong>

**Sequel: Epilogue**

_Ten years later…_

"I don't know where she got those hazel eyes." Spencer held up her three-month old daughter so that Ezra could see her. "But they're beautiful."

The two had met up at Central Park to catch up, and Ezra didn't know about Spencer's kid until she got off the plane with one and he picked her up. Spencer smiled as the baby in her arms fell asleep. "So how have you been?"

Ezra shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "Old. Still teaching private school. Have yet to publish anything amazing."

"Thirty-five is not that old," she berated him, slapping his hand. "And you have plenty of time still to find inspiration. What are some of your ideas?"

There were kids playing on the swings and Ezra stared at them, intrigued by one girl with dark brown hair and green eyes, around nine-years-old, swinging the highest—a daredevil, just like Aria had been.

"I don't have any ideas," he finally sighed, slightly embarrassed at his confession. He then pointed at her child. "What's her name?"

Now it was Spencer's turn to flush red. "Well, I considered Daisy…but I, and Toby, preferred Charlotte." She then held up the little baby's hand in a wave. "So, meet Charlotte."

Ezra was a little torn that Spencer had used the names Aria had preferred, but Aria would have loved it regardless that it wasn't her own. He swore he could hear a woman's voice reminding him to not take things so seriously; so he decided to be happy about it. "Can I call her Charlie for short?"

Putting Charlotte back in the baby carrier, Spencer nodded her head. "Of course. Hanna and Emily are already calling her Little Lottie, though."

"Like _Phantom of the Opera_?" Ezra laughed, and Spencer shook her head. "I told them I didn't like that, but they wouldn't listen."

Again, Ezra's eyes fell on the little girl on the swings, who'd just jumped off and landed on her knees and stayed in shock mode until she realized there were no injuries. Her parents came running up to dust her off, held one of her hands, and walked away. "How about you return Charlie to Toby at the hotel and order some dinner? I know this great Chinese place."

"Sounds great," Spencer responded and picked up the baby carrier. The more Ezra stared at the little girl, the more he realized that, unmarried but attempting to get into the dating game again, he wasn't going to have kids. And he was completely fine with that.

Later that night, after returning from dinner, Ezra opened up an empty Word document and stared at the blinking cursor. Closing his eyes, he thought of Aria, of Charlotte, of adventures and treasures. He remembered Aria showing off her Daisy Buchanan costume for Halloween, and how ecstatic she was after she won a photography contest by National Geographic. These memories churning in his head, his brain attempted to make it into an idea.

He hadn't spent a lot of his days the past ten years thinking too much of Aria. But if he had recognized that her memory was his muse as much as her life, he would have laid down on his bed and meditated to the memory of the sound of her voice and laugh; of her tears and hardships and ultimate death. Because never in his lifetime had he turned up with an idea for a novel so quickly—never.

Turning on the computer that had turned off in his musings, Ezra's fingers hovered over the keys, longing to make words out of letters and sentences out of words. He thought he hadn't been able to write because his muse was gone, and that thinking about her was still too fresh and painful despite her visit making things less heavy on him, but as it turned out, she never was. She was always with him. And with that, he typed the first word of his way to immortalize her.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, that's the end. Honestly, I haven't finished a story (even a short story like this one) in almost three years. Yeah, I've dabbled with one-shots and even did a three-shot one time, but the last legit longer story I finished was my <strong>**_Titanic _****ones that I finished in July, 2012. So to me, this is a great accomplishment! **

**If you're confused at all, just some clarification: I once asked my friend where she thought we went after she died, and she told me, "Wherever you want to go." And I started thinking, what if heaven/hell and reincarnation BOTH existed? Like you could live in a paradise (or a burning place, but that's not where Aria belongs), bask in a glory of no longer having to deal with how sucky living can be, and then move on to the next part, or start a new life? So that's where I was going with that, and that's what Ezra was talking about to Aria at the end that she'll make the happiest child in the world, because her soul will move on to a newborn. Strange, but I like it. **

**Thank you to everyone who has read this story, left reviews, favorited, followed, etc. You guys are awesome, and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! **

**It started with a super depressing one-shot I wrote on Valentine's Day of 2014...and I hope I turned it into something more deep and thought-provoking. In all honesty, a part of myself was thrown into this story, as I question love and life and death all the time. And to use Ezria, two people who I love together, has made it so much more fun.**

**Thanks again, and have a good existence! **

**~Lady Elena Dawson, AKA Samantha**


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